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JAM7rf,S  THOMSONS 


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i 


■A 


i 


THE 


m 

SEASONS: 

BY 


JAMES  THOxMSON. 

TO  WHICH  IS  PREFIXED 


THE  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR, 


t 


BY  P.  MURDOCH,  D.D. 


'niC 


PHILADELPHIA  : 

KAY  & TROUTMAN,  183^  MARKET  STREET. 
PITTSBURGH: — C.  H.  KAY. 


1848. 


PRINTED  BY  SMITH  & PETERS 

franklin  Buildings,  Sixth  Street  below  Arch,  PhiUdelpbia. 


hhoi, 


AN 


2-  / ^ 

ACCOUNT 

I V , 

OF  THR 

LIFE  AND  WRITINGS 


OF 

c 


MR.  JAMES  THOMSON. 


I f is  commonly  said,  that  the  life  of  a g^ood  writer 
» best  read  in  his  works  ; which  can  scarce  fail  to  re- 
ceive a peculiar  tincture  from  his  temper,  manners, 
and  habits:  the  distinguishing  character  of  his  mind, 
^ 1 his  ruling  passion,  at  least,  will  there  appear  undLs- 
guised.  But  however  just  this  observation  maj'^  be, 
^ and  although  we  might  safely  rest  Mr.  Thomson’s 
t/faine,  as  a good  man,  as  well  as  a man  of  genius,  on 
this  sole  footing ; yet  the  desire  whic!i  the  public  al- 
ways  showof  being  more  particularly  acquainted  with 
'^r  tbe  history  of  an  eminent  author,  ought  not  to  be 
disappointed  ; as  it  proceeds  not  from  mere  curiosi- 
ty, but  chiefly  from  affection  and  gratitude,  to  those 
by  whom  they  have  been  entertained  and  instructed. 

To  give  some  account  of  a deceased  friend  is  often 

I (5  64 


4 


THE  LIFE  OF 


apiece  of  justice  likewise,  which  ought  not  to  be  re- 
fused to  his  memory ; to  prevent  or  efface  the  imper- 
tinent fictions  which  officious  biographers  are  so  apt 
to  collect  and  propagate.  And  we  may  add,  that  the 
circumstances  of  an  author’s  life  will  sometimes 
throw  the  best  light  upon  his  writings  ; instances 
whereof  we  shall  meet  with  in  the  following  pages. 

Mr.  Thomson  wa*s  born  at  Ednam,  in  the  shire  of 
Roxburgh,  on  the  eleventh  of  September,  in  the  year 
1700.  His  father,  minister  of  that  place,  was  but  little 
known  beyond  the  narrow  circle  of  his  co-presbyters, 
and  to  a few  gentlemen  in  the  neighbourhood ; but 
highly  respected  by  them,  for  his  piety,  and  his  dili- 
gence in  the  pastoral  duty : as  appeared  afterw  ards, 
in  their  kind  offices  to  his  widow  and  orphan  family. 

The  Reverend  Messrs.  Riccarton  and  Gusthart  par- 
ticularly took  a most  affectionate  and  friendly  part  in 
all  their  concerns.  The  former,  a man  of  uncommon 
penetration  and  good  taste,  had  very  early  discover- 
ed, through  the  rudeness  of  young  Thomson’s  puerile 
essays,  a fund  of  genius  well  deserving  culture  and 
encouragement.  He  undertook,  therefore,  with  the 
father’s  approbation,  the  chief  direction  of  his  stu- 
v-dies,  furnished  him  with  the  proper  books,  corrected 
his  performances  ; and  was  daily  rewarded  with  the 
})leasure  of  seeing  his  labour  so  happily  emploj^ed. 

The  other  reverend  gentleman,  Mr.  Gusthart,  who 
,8  still  living  (11(52),  one  of  the  ministers  of  Edin- 
burgh, and  senior  of  the  Chapel  Royal,  was  no  less 
serviceable  to  Mrs.  Thomson  in  the  management  of 
her  little  affairs  ; which,  after  the  decease  of  her  hus- 


MR.  JAMES  THOMSON. 


6 


band,  burdened  as  she  was  with  a family  of  nine 
children,  required  the  prudent  counsels  and  assist- 
ance of  that  faithful  and  generous  friend. 

Sir  William  Bennet  likewise,  well  known  for  his 
gay  humour  and  ready  poetical  wit,  was  highly  de- 
lighted with  our  young  poet,  and  used  to  invite  him 
to  pass  the  summer-vacation  at  his  country-seat : a 
scene  of  life  which  Mr.  Thomson  always  remembered 
with  particular  pleasure.  But  what  he  wrote  during 
that  time,  either  to  entertain  Sir  William  and  Mr. 
Riccarton,  or  for  his  own  amusement,  he  destroyed 
every  new-year’s  day  ; committing  his  little  pieces  to 
the  flames,  in  their  due  order ; and  crowning  the  so- 
lemnity with  a copy  of  verses,  in  which  were  humor- 
ously recited  the  several  grounds  of  their  condem- 
nation. 

After  the  usual  course  of  school  education,  under 
an  able  master  at  Jedburgh,  Mr.  Thomson  was  sent 
to  tlic  university  of  Edinburgh.  But  in  the  second 
year  of  his  admission,  his  studies  were  for  some  time 
interrupted  by  the  death  of  his  father  ; who  was  car- 
ried off  so  suddenly,  that  it  was  not  possible  for  Mr 
Thomson,  with  all  the  diligence  he  could  use,  to 
receive  his  last  blessing.  This  affected  him  to  an  un- 
common degree  j and  his  relations  still  remember 
some  extraordinary  instances  of  his  grief  and  filial 
duty  on  that  occasion. 

Mrs.  Thomson,  whose  maiden  name  was  Hume, 
and  w ho  was  co-heiress  of  a small  estate  in  the  coun- 
try, did  not  sink  under  this  misfortune.  She  consulted 
the  friend,  Mr.  Gusthart : and  having,  by  his  advice, 
A 2 


6 


THE  LIFE  OF 


mortgaged  her  moiety  of  ilie  farm,  repaired  with  her 
family  to  Edinburgh ; where  she  lived  in  a decent  fru- 
gal manner,  till  her  favourite  son  had  not  on'y  fin-ish- 
ed  his  academical  course,  but  was  even  distingui'shed 
and  patronised  as  a man  of  genius.  She  was,  herself, 
a person  of  uncommon  natural  endowments ; possess- 
ed of  every  social  and  domestic  virtue ; with  an  ima- 
gination, for  vivacity  and  warmth,  scarce  inferior  to 
her  son’s  and  which  raised  her  devotional  exercises 
to  a pitch  bordering  on  enthusiasm. 

But  whatever  Jid vantage  Mr.  Thomson  might  de- 
rive from  the  complexion  of  his  parent,  it  is  certain 
he  owed  much  to  a religious  education ; and  that  his 
early  acquaintance  with  the  sacred  writings  contri- 
buted greatly  to  that  sublime,  by  which  his  works  will 
be  for  ever  distinguished.  In  his  first  pieces,  the  Sea- 
sons, we  see  liiin  at  once  assume  the  majestic  free- 
dom of  an  Eastern  writer  ; seizing  the  grand  images 
as  they  rise,  clothing  tliem  in  his  own  expressive  lan- 
guage, and  preserving,  throughout,  the  grace,  the 
variety,  and  tlie  dignity,  which  belong  to  a just  com- 
position ; unhurt  by  the  stiffness  of  formal  method. 

About  this  time,  the  study  of  poetry  was  become 
general  in  Scotland,  the  best  English  authors  being 
universally  read,  and  imitations  of  them  attempted. 
Addison  had  lately  displayed  tlie  beauties  of  Milton's 
immortal  work  ; and  his  remarks  on  it,  together  with 
Mr.  Pope’s  celebrated  Essay,  had  opened  the  way  to 
an  ac(|uaintance  with  the  best  poets  and  critics. 

But  the  most  learned  critic  is  not  always  the  best 
judge  of  poetry ; taste  being  a gift  of  nature,  th-" 


MR.  JAMES  THOMSON, 


7 


want  of  which  Aristotle  and  Bossu  cannot  supply ; nor 
even  the  study  of  the  best  originals,  when  the  reader’s 
faculties  are  not  tuned  in  a certain  consonance  to 
those  of  the  poet  j and  this  happened  to  be  the  case 
with  certain  learned  gentlemen,  into  whose  hands  a 
few  of  Mr.  Thomson’s  first  essays  had  fallen.  Some 
inaccuracies  of  style,  and  those  luxuriances  which  a 
young  writer  can  hardly  avoid,  lay  open  to  their  ca- 
vils and  censure : so  far,  indeed,  they  might  be  com- 
petent judges  ; but  the  tire  and  enthusiasm  of  the 
poet  had  entirely  escaped  their  notice.  Mr.  Thomson, 
however,  conscious  of  his  own  strength,  was  not  dis- 
couraged by  this  treatment ; especially  as  he  had 
some  fi  lends  on  whose  judgment  he  could  better  rely, 
and  who  thought  very  differently  of  his  performances. 
Only  from  that  time,  he  began  to  turn  his  views  to- 
wards London  ; where  works  of  genius  may  alvvay’s 
expect  a candid  reception  and  due  encouragement  j 
and  an  accident  soon  after  entirely  determined  him 
to  try  his  fortune  there. 

The  divinity  chair  at  Edinburgh  was  then  filled  by 
the  reverend  and  learned  Mr.  Hamilton;  a gentleman 
universally  respected  and  beloved;  and  who  had  par-  ^ 
ticularly  endeared  himself  to  the  young  divines  under 
his  care,  by  his  kind  offices,  his  candour,  and  affabi- 
lity. Our  author  had  attended  his  lectures  for  about 
ft  year,  when  there  was  prescribed  to  him,  for  the 
subject  of  an  exercise,  a psalm,  in  which  the  power 
and  majesty  of  God  are  celebrated.  Of  this  psalm  he 
gave  a paraphrase  and  illustration,  as  the  nature  of 
the  exercise  required ; but  in  a style  so  highly  poeti- 


8 


THE  LIFE  OF 


cal  as  surprised  the  whole  audience.  Mr.  Hamilton, 
as  his  custom  was,  complimented  the  orator  upon  his 
performance,  and  pointed  out  to  the  students  the 
most  masterly  striking  parts  of  it ; but  at  last,  turn 
ing  to  Mr.  Thomson,  he  told  him,  smiling,  that  if  he 
thought  of  being  useful  to  the  ministry,  he  must  keep 
a stricter  rein  upon  his  imagination,  and  expres? 
himself  in  language  more  intelligible  to  an  ordinary 
congregation. 

This  gave  Mr.  Thomson  to  understand,  that  his  ex- 
pectations from  the  study  of  theology  might  be  verv 
precarious  ; even  though  the  church  had  been  more 
his  free  choice  than  probably  it  was.  So  that  hav- 
ing, soon  after,  received  some  encouragement  from 
a lady  of  quality,  a friend  of  his  mother’s,  then  in 
London,  he  quickly  prepared  himself  for  his  journey. 
And  although  this  encouragement  ended  in  nothing 
beneficial,  it  served  for  the  pretext,  to  cover  the  im- 
prudence of  committing  himself  to  the  wide  world, 
unfriended  and  unpatronised,  and  with  the  slender 
stock  of  money  he  was  then  possessed  of. 

, But  his  merit  did  not  long  lie  concealed.  Mr 
Forbes,  afterwards  lord  president  of  the  session,  then 
attending  the  service  of  parliament,  having  seen  a 
specimen  of  Mr.  Thomson’s  poetry  in  Scotland,  re- 
ceived him  very  kindly,  and  recommended  him  to 
some  of  his  friends : particularly  to  Mr  Aikman,  who 
lived  in  great  intimacy  with  many  persons  of  distin- 
guished rank  and  worth.  This  gentleman,  from  a con- 
noisseur in  painting,  was  become  a professed  painter  * 
tind  his  taste  being  no  less  just  and  delicate  in  the 


MR.  JAMES  THOMSON, 


0 


Rindred  art  of  descriptive  poetry,  than  in  his  own,  no 
wonder  that  he  soon  conceived  a frTendship  for  our 
author.  What  a warm  return  he  met  with,  and  how 
Mr.  Thomson  was  affected  by  his  friend’s  premature 
death,  appears  in  the  copy  of  verses  which  he  wrote 
on  that  occasion. 

In  the  mean  time,  our  author’s  reception,  wherever 
he  was  introduced,  emboldened  him  to  risk  the  publi 
cation  of  his  Winter : in  which,  as  himself  was  a mere 
novice  in  such  matters,  he  was  kindly  assisted  by  Mr. 
Mallet,  then  private  tutor  to  his  grace  the  Duke  of 
Montrose,  and  his  brother  the  Lord  George  Graham, 
so  well  known  afterwards  as  an  able  and  gallant  sea- 
officer.  To  Mr.  Mallet  he  likewise  owed  his  first  ac- 
quaintance with  several  of  the  wits  of  that  time  ; an 
exact  information  of  their  characters,  personal  and 
poetical,  and  how  they  stood  affected  to  each  other. 

The  poem  of  W' inter,  published  in  March  1726, 
was  no  sooner  read  than  universally  admired ; those 
oniy  excepted  who  had  not  been  used  to  feel,  or  to 
look  for,  any  thing  in  poetry,  beyond  a point  of  sati- 
rical or  epigrammatic  wit,  a smart  antithesis  richly 
trimmed  with  rhyme,  or  the  softness  of  an  elegiac 
complaint.  To  such,  his  manly  classical  spirit  could 
not  easily  recommend  itself ; till  after  a more  atten- 
tive perusal  they  had  got  the  better  of  their  prejudi- 
ces, and  either  acquired  or  affected  a truer  taste.  A 
few  others  stood  aloof,  merely  because  they  had  long 
before  fixed  the  articles  of  their  poetical  creed,  and 
resigned  themselves  to  an  absolute  despair  of  ever 
seeing  any  thing  new  and  original.  These  were  some- 


10 


THE  LIFE  OF 


what  mortified  to  find  their  notions  disturbed  by  the 
appearance  of  a poet  who  seemed  to  owe  nothing" 
but  to  nature  and  his  own  genius.  But  in  a short 
time,  the  applause  became  unanimous  ; every  one 
wondering  how  so  many  pictures,  and  pictures  so 
familiar,  should  have  moved  them  but  faintly  to  what 
they  felt  in  his  descriptions.  His  digressions  too,  the 
overflowings  of  a tender,  benevolent  heart,  charmed 
the  reader  no  less  ; leaving  him  in  doubt,  whether  he 
should  more  admire  the  poet,  or  love  the  man. 

From  that  time,  Mr.  Tliornson’s  acquaintance  was 
courted  by  all  men  of  taste ; and  several  ladies  of 
high  rank  and  distinction  became  his  declared  pa- 
tronesses : the  Countess  of  Hartford,  Miss  Drelin- 
coiirt,  afterwards  Viscountess  Primrose,  Mrs.  Stan- 
ley, and  others.  But  the  chief  happiness  wliich  his 
Winter  procured  him  w^as,  tliat  it  brought  him  ac- 
quainted v/ith  Dr.  Bundle,  afterwards  Lortl  Bishop  of 
Derry  : who,  upon  conversing  with  Mr.  Thomson, 
and  finding  in  him  qualities  greater  still,  and  of  more 
value,  than  those  of  a poet,  received  him  into  his  in- 
timate confidence  and  friendship  ; promoted  his  cha- 
racter every  where ; introduced  him  to  his  great 
A lend  the  Lord  Chancellor  Talbot ; and,  some  years 
after,  v/hen  the  oldest  son  of  that  nobleman  was  to 
make  his  tour  of  travelling,  recommended  Mr.  Thom- 
son as  a proper  companion  for  him.  His  affection 
and  gratitude  to  Dr.  Bundle,  and  his  indignation  at 
the  treatment  that  worthy  prelate  had  met  with,  are 
Anely  expressed  in  his  poem  to  the  memory  of  Lord 
Talbot.  The  true  cause  of  that  undeserved  treatment 


MR.  JAMES  THOMSON. 


11 


has  been  secreted  from  the  public,  as  well  as  the  dark 
manoeuvres  that  were  employed:  but  Mr.  Thomson, 
who  had  access  to  the  best  information,  places  it  to 
the  account  of 

Slanderous  zeal,  and  politics  infirm, 

.lealous  of  worth. 

Meanwhile,  our  poet’s  chief  care  had  been,  in  re- 
turn for  the  public  favour,  to  finish  the  plan  which 
their  wishes  laid  out  for  him  ; and  the  expectations 
wliich  his  Winter  had  raised,  were  fully  satisfied  by 
the  successive  publication  of  the  other  Seasons:  of 
Summer,  in  the  year  1727  , of  Spring-,  in  the  begin- 
ning-of  the  following  year;  and  of  Autumn,  in  a 
c|uarto  edition  of  his  works,  printed  in  1730. 

!n  that  edition,  the  Seasons  are  placed  in  their  na- 
tural order  ; and  crowned  with  that  inimitable  Hymn, 
in  which  we  view  them  in  their  beautiful  succession, 
as  one  whole,  the  immediate  effect  of  infinite  Power 
and  Goodness.  In  imitation  of  the  Hebrew  bard  all 
nature  is  called  forth  to  do  homage  to  the  Creator, 
and  the  reader  is  left  enraptured  in  silent  adoration 
and  praise. 

Besides  these,  and  his  tragedy  of  Sophonisba, 
writteii  and  acted  with  applause,  in  the  year  1729, 
Mr.  I'homson  had  in  1727,  published  his  poem  to  the 
memory  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  then  lately  deceased  ; 
containing  a deserved  encomium  of  that  incompara- 
ble man,  with  an  account  of  his  chief  discoveries ; 
sublimely  poetical ; and  yet  so  just,  that  an  ingenious 
foreigner,  the  Count  Algarotti,  lakes  a line  of  it  for 


12 


THE  LIFE  OF 


the  text  of  his  philosopliical  dialogues,  II  JVeuionicm- 
ismo  per  le  dame  : this  was  in  part  owing  to  the  as- 
sistance he  had  of  his  friend  Mr.  Gray,  a gentleman 
well  versed  in  the  New^tonian  philosophy,  who,  on  that 
occasion,  gave  him  a very  exact,  though  general,  ab- 
stract of  its  principles. 

That  same  year,  the  resentment  of  our  mercllants, 
for  the  interruption  of  their  trade  by  the  Spaniards  in 
America,  running  very  high,  Mr.  Thomson  zealously 
took  part  in  it ; and  wrote  his  poem  Britannia,  to 
rouse  the  nation  to  revenge.  And  although  this  piece 
is  the  less  read  that  its  subject  was  but  accidental  and 
temporary,  the  spirited  generous  sentiments  that  en- 
rich it,  can  never  be  out  of  season  : they  will  at  least 
remain  a monument  of  that  love  of  his  country,  that 
devotion  to  the  public,  w Inch  he  is  ever  inculcating  as 
the  perfection  of  virtue,  and  which  none  ever  felt 
more  pure,  or  more  intense,  than  himself. 

Our  author’s  poetical  studies  were  now'  to  be  inter- 
rupted, or  rather  improved,  by  his  attendance  on  the 
honourable  Mr.  Charles  Talbot  in  his  travels.  A de- 
lightful task  indeed  ! endowed  as  that  young  noble- 
man was  by  nature,  and  accomplished  by  the  care 
and  example  of  the  best  of  fathers,  in  whatever  could 
adorn  humanity:  graceful  of  person,  elegant  in  man- 
ners and  address  ; pious,  humane,  generous  , with  an 
exquisite  taste  in  all  the  finer  arts. 

With  this  amiable  companion  and  friend,  Mr. 
Thomson  visited  most  of  the  courts  and  capita!  cities 
o-f  Europe  ; and  returned  wdth  his  view  s greatly  en- 
larged ; not  of  exterior  nature  only,  and  the  works  of 


MR.  JAMES  THOMSON. 


13 


art,  but  of  human  life  and  manners,  of  the  constitu- 
tion and  policy  of  the  several  states,  their  connexions, 
and  their  religious  institutions.  How  particular  and 
judicious  his  observations  were,  we  see  in  his  poem  of 
Liberty,  begun  soon  after  his  return  to  England.  We 
see,  at  the  same  time,  to  what  a high  pitch  his  love  of 
his  country  was  raised,  by  the  comparisons  he  had 
all  along  been  making  of  our  happy  well-poised  go- 
vernment with  those  of  other  nations.  To  inspire  his 
fellow-subjects  with  the  like  sentiments,  and  to  show 
them  by  what  means  the  precious  freedom  w^e  enjoy 
may  be  preserved,  and  how  it  may  be  abused  or  lost, 
he  employed  two  years  of  his  life  in  composing  that 
noble  work : upon  which,  conscious  of  the  importance 
and  dignity  of  the  subject,  he  valued  himself  *more^' 
than  upon  all  his  other  writings. 

While  Mr.  Thomson  was  writing  his  first  part  of 
Liberty,  he  received  a severe  shock,  by  the  death  of 
his  noble  friend  and  fellow-traveller  : which  was  soon 
followed  by  another  that  was  severer  still,  and  of 
more  general  concern ; the  death  of  Lord  Talbot  him- 
self ; which  Mr.  Thomson  so  pathetically  and  so  justly 
laments  in  the  poem  dedicated  to  his  memory.  In  him 
the  nation  saw  itself  deprived  of  an  imcorrupted  pa- 
triot, the  faithful  guardian  of  their  rights,  on  whose 
wisdom  and  integrity  they  had  founded  their  hope^ 
of  lelief  from  many  tedious  vexations:  and  Mr. 
Tliomson,  besides  his  share  in  the  general  mourning, 
had  to  bear  all  the  affiiction  which  a heart  like  his 
could  feel,  for  the  person  whom,  of  ail  mankind,  he 
most  revered  and  loved.  At  the  same  time,  he  found 

B 


14 


THE  LIFE  OF 


himself;  from  an  easy  competency,  reduced  to  a state 
of  precarious  dependence,  in  which  he  passed  the  re- 
mainder of  his  life;  excepting”  only  the  two  last  years 
of  it,  during  which  he  enjoyed  the  place  of  surveyor- 
generalof  the  Leeward  islands,  procured  for  him  by 
the  generous  friendship  of  Lord  Lyttleton. 

Immediately  upon  his  return  to  England  with  Mr. 
Talbot,  the  chancellor  had  made  him  his  secretary  of 
briefs  ; a place  of  little  attendance,  suiting  his  retired 
indolent  way  of  life,  and  equal  to  all  his  wants.  This 
place  fell  with  his  patron ; and  although  the  noble 
lord  who  succeeded  to  Lord  Talbot  in  office,  kept  it 
vacant  for  some  time,  probably  till  Mr.  Thomson 
should  apply  for  it,  he  was  so  dispirited,  and  so  list- 
less to  every  concern  of  that  kind,  that  he  never  took 
one  step  in  the  affair : a neglect  which  his  best  friends 
greatly  blamed  in  him. 

Yet  could  not  his  genius  be  depressed,  or  his  tem- 
per hurt,  by  this  reverse  of  fortune.  He  resumed, 
with  time,  his  usual  cheerfulness,  and  never  abated 
one  article  in  his  way  of  living ; which,  though  sim- 
ple, was  genial  and  elegant.  The  profits  arising  from 
his  works  were  not  inconsiderable  : his  tragedy  ol 
Aeramemnon,  acted  in  1738,  yielded  a good  sum  : 
Mr.  Millar  was  always  at  hand,  to  answer,  or  even  to 
prevent,  his  demands;  and  he  had  a friend  or  two  be- 
sides, whose  hearts,  he  knew,  were  not  contracted  by 
the  ample  fortunes  they  had  acquired  ; who  would,  of 
themselves,  interpose,  if  they  saw  any  occasion  for  it. 

But  his  chief  dependence,  during  this  long  inter- 
val, was  on  the  protection  and  bounty  of  his  iroyal 


MR.  JAMES  THOMSON. 


15 


highness  Frederic  Prince  of  Wales  ; who,  upon  ihe 
recommendation  of  Lord  Lyttelton,  then  his  chief 
favourite,  settled  on  him  a handsome  allowance.  And 
afterwards,  when  he  was  introduced  to  his  royal 
highness,  that  excellent  prince,  who  truly  w tis  what 
Mr.  Thomson  paints  him,  the  friend  of  mankind  and 
of  merit,  received  him  very  graciously,  and  ever  after 
honoured  him  w ith  many  marks  of  [)articular  favour 
and  confidence.  A circumstance,  whicli  does  equal 
honour  to  the  patron  and  the  poet,  ought  not  here  to 
be  omitted  ; that  my  Lord  Lyttelton’s  recommenda- 
tion came  altogether  unsolicited,  and  long  before 
Mr.  Thomson  was  personally  known  to  him. 

It  happened,  however,  that  the  favour  of  his  royal 
highness  was  in  one  instance  of  some  prejudice  to 
our  author ; in  the  refusal  of  a license  for  his  tragedy 
of  Edward  and  Eleonora,  which  he  had  prepared  for 
the  stage  in  the  year  1739.  The  reader  may  see  that 
this  play  contains  not  a line  which  could  justly  give 
offence  ; but  the  ministry,  still  sore  fron)  certain  pas- 
quinades, which  had  lately  produced  the  stage-act  ; 
and  as  little  satisfied  with  some  part  of  the  prince’s 
political  conduct,  as  he  was  with  their  management  of 
the  public  affairs ; would  not  risk  the  representation 
of  a piece  written  under  his  eye,  and  they  might  pro- 
bably think,  by  his  command. 

This  refusal  drew  after  it  another  ; and  in  a way 
which,  as  it  is  related,  was  rather  ludicrous.  Mr. 
Paterson,  a companion  of  Mr.  Thomson,  aftcrw  ai  ds 
his  deputy  and  then  his  successor,  in  the  general 
surveyorship,  used  to  write  out  fair  copies  for  his 


16 


THE  LIFE  OF 


friead,  when  such  were  wanted  for  the  press  or  fo 
the  stage.  This  gentleman  likewise  courted  the  tra- 
gic muse ; and  had  taken  for  his  subject  the  story  of 
Arminius  the  German  hero.  But  his  guiltless 

as  it  was,  being  presented  for  a license ; no  soonei 
had  the  censor  cast  his  eyes  on  the  hand-writing  in 
which  he  had  seen  Edward  and  Eleonora,  than  he 
cried  out,  Away  with  it !”  and  the  author’s  profits 
were  reduced  to  what  his  bookseller  could  afford  foi 
a tragedy  in  distress.  , 

Mr.  Thomson’s  next  dramatic  performance  *vas 
the  m-asque  of  Alfred  ; written,  jointly  with  Mr.  Pdal 
lot,  by  command  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  for  the  en 
tertainment  of  his  royal  highness’s  court,  at  his  siui] 
mer-residence.  This  piece,  with  some  alterations, 
and  the  music  new,  has  been  since  brought  upon  the 
stage  by  Mr.  Mallet : it  was  originally  acted  at  Clif 
den,  in  the  year  1740,  on  the  birth-day  of  her  roya) 
highness  the  Princess  Augusta. 

In  the  year  1745,  his  Tancred  and  Sigismunda. 
taken  from  the  novel  in  Gil  Bias,  was  performed  with 
applause  ; and  from  the  deep  romantic  distress  of  the 
lovers,  continues  to  draw  crow  tied  houses.  The  sue 
cess  of  this  piece  was  indeed  insured  from  the  first 
by  Mr.  Garrick  and  Mrs.  Cibber,  they  appearing  in 
the  principal  characters  ; which  they  heightened  and 
adorned  with  all  the  magic  of  their  never-failing  art. 

He  had,  in  the  mean  time,  been  finishing  his  Castle 
of  Indolence,  in  two  cantos.  It  was,  at  first,  little 
more  than  a few  detached  stanzas,  in  the  way  of  rail- 
lery on  himself,  and  on  some  of  his  friends,  who 


MR.  JAMES  THOMSON. 

would  reproach  him  with  indolence,  while  he  thought 
them  at  least,  as  indolent  himself.  But  he  saw  very 
soon,  that  the  subject  deserved  to  be  treated  more 
seriously,  and  in  a form  fitted  to  convey  one  of  the 
most  important  moral  lessons. 

The  stanza  which  he  uses  in  this  work  is  that  of 
Spenser,  borrowed  from  the  Italian  poets ; in  which 
he  thought  rhymes  had  their  proper  place,  and  were 
even  graceful : the  compass  of  the  stanza  admitting 
an  agreeable  variety  of  final  sounds  : while  the  senst 
of  the  poet  is  not  cramped  or  cut  short,  nor  yet  too 
much  dilated  j as  must  often  happen,  when  it  is  par- 
celled out  into  rhymed  couplets  ; the  usual  measure 
indeed  of  our  elegy  and  satire,  but  which  always 
weakens  the  higher  poetry,  and,  to  a true  ear,  will 
sometimes  give  it  an  air  of  the  burlesque. 

This  was  the  last  piece  Mr.  Thoipsori  himself  pub- 
lished 3 his  tragedy  of  Coriolanus  being  only  prepar- 
ed for  the  theatre,  when  a fatal  accident  robbed  the 
world  of  one  of  the  best  of  men,  and  best  poets,  that 
lived  in  it. 

He  had  always  been  a timorous  horseman  j and 
more  so,  in  a road  where  numbers  of  giddy  or  un- 
skilful riders  are  continually  passing  ; so  that,  when 
the  weather  did  not  invite  him  to  go  by  water,  he 
would  commonly  w^alk  the  distance  between  London 
and  Richmond,  with  any  acquaintance  that  ofiered  ; 
with  whom  he  might  chat  and  rest  himself,  or  per- 
haps dine,  by  the  way.  One  summer  evening,  being 
alone,  in  his  walk  from  towm  to  Hammersmith,  he 
had  overheated  himself,  and,  in  that  condition,  im- 


18 


THE  LIFE  OF 


prudently  took  a boat  to  carry  him  to  Kew;  appje 
liending-  no  bad  consequence  from  the  chill  air  on 
the  river,  which  his  walk  to  his  house,  at  tlie  upp  er 
end  of  Kew-I^ane,  had  always  hitherto  preventc  d 
Knt  now  the  cold  had  so  seized  him,  that  next  day  he 
tbund  himself  in  a high  fever,  so  much  the  more  to 
be  dreaded  that  he  was  of  a full  habit.  This,  how- 
ever, by  the  use  of  proper  medicines,  was  removed, 
so  that  he  was  thought  to  be  out  of  danger:  till  ti  € 
fine  weather  having  tempted  him  to  expose  liinisch 
once  more  to  the  evening  dews,  his  fever  returned 
with  violence,  and  with  such  symptoms  as  left  t o 
hopes  of  a cure.  Two  days  had  passed  before  his  iv? 
lapse  was  known  in  town  ; at  last,  Mr.  ?»HtrhciIand 
Mr.  Reid,  with  Dr.  Armstrong,  being  informed  of  it 
posted  out  at  midnight  to  his  assistance:  but,  alas  ' 
came  only  to  endure  a sight  of  all  others  the  morn 
shocking  to  nature,  the  last  agonies  of  tlieir  belove.: 
friend.  This  lamented  death  happened  on  the  27th 
day  of  August,  1743. 

His  testamentary  executors  were,  the  Lord  Lyttel 
ton,  whose  care  of  our  poet’s  fortune  and  fame  ceas 
od  not  with  his  life  ; and  Mr.  Mitchell,  a gentlemai 
equally  noted  for  the  truth  and  constancy  of  Ins  pn  i 
rate  friendships,  and  for  his  address  and  spirit  as  i 
public  minister.  By  their  united  interest,  the  orphiu 
play  of  Coriolanus  was  brought  on  the  stage  to  tin 
best  advantage:  from  the  profits  of  which,  and  tin 
sale  of  manuscripts,  and  other  etTccts,  all  demamk 
were  duly  satisfied,  and  a handsome  sum  remit ied  to 
ii'vj  sisters.  My  Lord  Lyttelton’s  prologue  to  tins 


MR,  JAMES  THOMSON, 


1^) 


piece  was  admired  as  one  of  tlie  best  that  had  ever 
been  written  ; the  best  spoken  it  certainly  was.  The 
sympathising  audience  saw  that  then,  indeed,  Mr. 
Quin  was  no  actor  ; that  tlie  tears  he  siied  were  those 
of  real  friendship  and  grief. 

Mr.  Thomson’s  remains  were  deposited  in  the 
church  of  Richmond,  under  a plain  stone,  witJiont 
any  inscription  ; nor  did  hi.s  brother-poets,  at  all  exert 
themselves  on  the  occasion,  as  they  liad  lately  done 
for  one  w ho  had  been  tlie  terror  of  poets  a!!  his  life- 
time. This  silence  furnished  matter  to  one  of  his 
friends  for  an  excellent  satirical  epigram,  which  we 
are  sorry  we  cannot  give  the  reader.  Only  one 
gentleman,  Mr.  Collins,  v.ho  had  lived  some  time  at 
Richmond,  but  forsook  it  v\hcn  Mr.  Thomson  died, 
wrote  an  ode  to  his  memory.  This  for  the  dirge-like 
melancholy  it  breathes,  and  the  warmth  of  affection 
that  seems  to  have  dictated  it,  w'e  shall  subjoin  to  tl.e 
present  account. 

Our  author  himself  hints,  somewhere  in  his  works, 
that  his  exterior  W'as  not  the  most  promising : his 
make  being  ratherrobust  than  graceful  ; though  it  is 
known  that  in  his  youth  he  had  been  thought  hand- 
some. His  worst  appearance  was,  wh.en  j’ou  saw  him 
walking  alone,  in  a thoughtful  mood  : hut  let  a friend 
accost  him,  and  enter  into  conversation,  he  would  in- 
stantly brighten  into  a most  amiable  aspect,  hi.s  fea- 
tures no  longer  the  same,  and  his  eye  darting  a pe- 
culiar animated  fire.  The  case  was  much  alike  in 
company  ; w here,  if  it  was  mixed,  or  verj'^  numerous, 
he  made  but  an  imUflerent  figure : but  with  a few 


20 


THE  LIFE  OF 


«elect  iVieuds,  he  was  open  sprightly,  and  entertain- 
ing. His  wit  flowed  freely,  but  pertinently,  and  at 
due  intervals,  leaving  room  for  every  one  to  contri- 
bute his  share.  Such  was  his  extreme  sensibility,  so 
perfect  the  harmony  of  his  organs  with  the  senti- 
ments of  his  mind,  that  his  looks  always  announced, 
and  half  expressed,  what  he  was  about  to  say  ; and 
hjs  voice  corresponded  exactly  to  the  manner  and 
degree  in  which  he  was  affected.  This  sensibility 
had  one  inconvenience  attending  it,  that  it  rendered 
him  tile  very  worst  reader  of  good  poetry  : a sonnet 
or  a copy  of  tame  verses,  he  could  manage  pretty 
well ; or  even  improve  them  in  the  reading;  but  a pas- 
sage of  Virgil,  Milton,  or  Shakspeare,  would  some- 
times quite  oppress  him,  that  you  could  hear  little 
else  than  some  ill-articulated  sounds,  rising  as  from 
the  bottom  of  his  breast. 

He  had  improved  his  taste  upon  the  best  originals, 
ancient  and  modern  : but  could  not  bear  to  write 
what  was  not  strictly  his  own,  w liat  had  not  more 
immediately  struck  his  imagination,  or  touched  Ins 
Heart : so  that  he  is  not  in  the  least  concerned  in  tluit 
<juestion  about  the  merit  or  demerit  of  imitators. 
What  he  borrows  from  the  ancients,  lie  gives  us  iti 
an  avowed  faithful  paraphrase  or  translation  ; as  we 
see  in  a few  passages  taken  from  Virgil,  and  in  that 
beautiful  picture  from  Pliny  the  elder,  where  the 
course  and  gradual  increase  of  the  Nile  are  figured 
by  the  stages  of  man’s  life. 

The  autumn  was  his  favourite  season  for  poetical 
composition,  and  the  deep  silence  of  the  niglu,  ihe 


MR.  JAMES  THOMSON. 


21 


time  he  commonly  chose  for  such  studies  ; so  that  he 
would  often  be  heard  walking-  in  his  library,  till  near 
morning-,  humming-  over,  in  his  way,  what  he  was  to 
correct  and  write  out  next  day. 

Th.e  amusements  of  his  leisure  hours  w'erc  civil 
and  natural  history,  voyag-cs,  and  the  relations  of  tra- 
vellers, the  most  authentic  he  could  procure:  and, 
had  his  situation  favoured  it,  he  would  certainly 
have  excelled  in  gardening-,  agriculture  and  every 
rural  improvement  and  exercise.  Although  he  per- 
formed on  no  instrument,  he  was  passionately  fond  of 
music,  and  would  sometimes  listen  a full  hour  at  his 
window  to  the  nightingales  in  Richmond  Gardens. 
While  abroad  he  had  been  greatly  delighted  with  the 
regular  Italian  drama,  such  as  Metastasio  writes  ; as 
it  is  there  heigthened  by  the  charms  of  the  best  voices 
and  instruments  ; and  looked  upon  our  theatrical 
entertainments,  as  in  one  respect,  naked  and  imper- 
I'cct  when  comj)ared  with  the  ancient,  or  with  tiiose 
of  Italy  ; wishing  sometimes  that  a chorus,  at  least, 
and  a better  recitative,  could  be  introduced. 

Nor  was  his  taste  less  exquisite  in  the  arts  of  paint 
ing,  sculpture,  and  architecture.  In  his  travels  he 
had 'seen  all  the  jnost  celebrated  monuments  of  an- 
tiquity, and  the  best  productions  of  modern  art  ; and 
studied  them  so  miiiutely,  and  with  so  true  a judg- 
ment, th.at  in  some  of  his  descriptions,  in  the  poem  of 
Liberty,  we  have  tlie  master-pieces  there  mentioned 
})laced  in  a stronger  light  perhaps  than  if  we  saw 
them  w ith  our  eyes  ; at  least  more  justly  delineated 
than  in  any  other  account  extant:  so  superior  is  a 


22 


THE  LIFE  OF 


natural  taste  of  the  grand  and  beautiful,  to  tlie  tr^. 
ditiona!  lessons  of  a common  virtuosi.  His  collection 
of  prints,  and  some  drawings  from  the  antique  are 
now  in  the  possession  of  his  friend  Mr.  Gray,  of  Rich- 
mond 11  ii!. 

As  fur  his  nsore  distinguishing  qualities  of  mind  and 
lu'art,  they  are  belter  represented  in  his  writings 
ti'.an  they  can  be  by  the  pen  of  any  biographer 
Tliere,  his  love  of  mankind,  of  his  country  and 
friends,  his  devotion  to  the  Supreme  Being,  founded 
on  the  most  elevated  and  just  conceptions  of  his  ope 
rations  and  providence,  shine  out  in  every  page.  So 
unbounded  was  his  tenderness  of  heart,  that  it  took 
in  even  the  brute  creation  ; judge  what  it  must  have 
been  towards  his  own  species.  He  is  not  indeed 
Known,  through  his  whole  life,  to  have  given  any 
person  one  moment’s  pain,  by  his  w ritings  or  other- 
wise. He  took  no  part  in  the  [)oeticaI  squabbles 
which  happened  in  his  time  ; and  was  respected  and 
left  undisturbed  by  both  sides.  He  w'ould  even  re- 
fuse to  take  offence  when  he  justly  might ; by  inter- 
rupting ally  personal  story  that  was  brought  him, 
w itii  some  jest,  or  some  humorous  apology  for  the 
otTender.  Nor  was  he  ever  seen  ruhled  or  discom 
posed,  but  when  he  read  or  heard  of  some  flagrant 
instance  of  injustice,  oppression,  or  cruelty:  then 
indeed  the  strongest  marks  of  horror  and  indignation 
were  vi-sibie  in  his  countenance. 

These  amiable  virtues,  this  divine  temper  of  mind, 
did  not  fail  of  their  due  reward.  His  friends  loved 
him  with  an  enthusiastic  ardour,  and  lamented  bis 


MR.  JAMES  THOMSON 


23 


untimely  fate  in  the  manner  that  is  still  fresh  in  eve- 
ry one’s  memory;  the  best  and  greatest  men  of  his 
time  honoured  him  with  their  friendship  and  protec- 
tion ; the  applause  of  the  public  attended  every  ap- 
pearance he  made  ; the  actors,  of  whom  the  more 
eminent  were  his  friends  and  admirers,  grudging  no 
pains  to  do  justice  to  his  tragedies.  At  present,  in- 
deed, if  we  except  Tancred,  they  are  seldom  called 
for;  the  simplicity  of  his  plots,  and  the  models  he 
worked  after,  not  suiting  the  reigning  taste,  nor  the 
impatience  of  an  English  theatre.  They  may  h.ere- 
after  come  to  be  in  vogue ; but  we  hazard  no  con 
jecture  upon  them,  or  upon  any  part  of  Mr.  Tliotn 
son’s  works  ; neitlier  need  tliey  any  defence  or  apo- 
iogy,  after  the  reception  the}'^  have  had  at  home,  and 
the  foreign  languages  into  which  they  have  been 
translated.  We  shall  only  say,  that,  to  judge  f;  t):ri 
the  imitations  of  Ins  manner,  winch  have  been  f 
lowing  him  close  from  the  very  first  publication  of 
Winter,  he  seems  to  have  fixed  no  inconsiderable  era 
if  the  English  poetry. 


ODE 


ON  THE 

DEATH  OF  MR.  THOMSON, 

I 

BY  MR.  COLLINS. 


[The  scene  of  the  following  stanzas  is  supposed  to 
lie  on  the  Thames,  near  Richmond.] 

In  yonder  grave  a druid  lies, 

Where  slowly  winds  the  stealing  wave : 

The  year’s  best  sweets  shall  duteous  rise 
, To  deck  its  poet’s  sylvan  grave. 

In  yon  deep  bed  of  whispering  reeds 
His  airy  harp*  shall  now  be  laid, 

That  he  whose  heart  in  sorrow  bleeds. 

May  love  through  life  the  soothing  shade. 

Then  maids  and  youths  shall  linger  here. 

And  while  its  sounds  at  distance  s well. 

Shall  sadly  seem,  in  Pity’s  ear, 

To  hear  the  woodland  pilgrim’s  knell. 

* The  harp  of  .^olus,  of  which  see  a description 
in  the  Castle  of  Indolence. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MR.  THOMSON. 

Remembrance  oft  shall  haunt  the  shore 

When  Thames  in  summer-wreaths  is  drest, 

And  oft  suspend  the  dashing  oar, 

To  bid  his  gentle  spirit  rest : 

And  oft  as  Ease  and  Health  retire 
To  breezy  lawn,  or  forest  deep, 

The  friend  shall  view  yon  whitening  spire% 

And  ’mid  the  varied  landscape  weep. 

But  thou,  who  ownest  that  earthy  bed. 

Ah  ! what  will  every  dirge  avail ; 

Or  tears,  which  love  and  pity  shed. 

That  mourn  beneath  the  gliding  sail? 

Yet  lives  there  one,  whose  heedless  eye 

Shall  scorn  thy  pale  shrine  glimmering  near  ? 

AVith  him,  sweet  bard,  may  fancy  die. 

And  joy  desert  the  blooming  year. 

But  thou,  lorn  stream,  whose  sullen  tide 
No  sedge-crowned  sisters  now  attend. 

Now  waft  me  from  the  green  hill’s  side 
Whose  cold  turf  hides  the  buried  friend 

And  see  ! the  fairy  valleys  fade  ; 

Dun  night  has  veiled  the  solemn  view ; 

Yet  once  agcUn,  dear  parted  shade. 

Meek  Nature’s  child,  again  adieu ! 


Richmond  Church 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MR.  THOMSON 


The  genial  meads  assigned  to  bless 
Thy  life,  shall  mourn  th}^  early  doom  : 
Their  hinds  and  shepherd-girls  shall  dress, 
With  simple  hands,  thy  rural  tomb. 

Long,  long,  thy  stone,  and  pointed  clay, 
Shall  melt  the  musing  Briton’s  eyes  ; 

O ! vales,  and  wild  woods,  shall  he  say, 

In  yonder  grave  your  druid  lies. 


SPRfJVG. 


THE  ARGUMENT, 


The  subject  proposed.  Inscribed  to  the  Countess  oj 
Hertford.  The  season  is  described  as  it  affects  the 
various  parts  of  JVature,  ascending  from  the  lower 
to  the  higher,  with  digressions  arising  from  the 
subject.  Its  influence  on  inanimate  matter.  On 
vegetables.  On  brute  animals.  And  last  on  man. 
Concluding  with  a dissuasive  from  the  wild  and 
irregular  passion  of  love,  opposed  to  that  of  a pure 
and  happy  kind. 


SPRING 


OOME,  gentle  Spring  ! ethereal  Mildness  ! come 
And  from  the  bosom  of  yon  dropping  cloud, 

While  music  wakes  around,  veil’d  in  a shower 
Of  shadowing  roses,  on  our  plains  descend. 

O Hertford,  fitted  or  to  shine  in  courts 
With  unaffected  grace,  or  walk  the  plain 
With  innocence  and  meditation  join’d 
In  soft  assemblage,  listen  to  my  song, 

Which  thy  own  Season  paints  j when  Nature  all 
Is  blooming.and  benevolent,  like  thee. 

And  see  where  surly  Winter  passes  off, 

Far  to  the  north,  and  calls  his  ruffian  blasts’ 

His  blasts  obey,  and  quit  the  howling  hill, 

The  shatter’d  forest,  and  the  ravag’d  vale  ; 

While  softer  gales  succeed,  at  whose  kind  touch, 
Dissolving  snows  in  livid  torrents  lost, 

The  mountains  lift  their  green  heads  to  the  sky 

As  yet  the  trembling  year  is  unconfirmed, 

And  Winter  oft  at  eve  resumes  the  breeze, 

Cliills  the  pale  morn,  and  bids  his  driving  sleets 
Deform  the  day  delightless  : so  that  scarce 
Tlie  bittern  knows  his  time,  with  bill  ingulf’d 
To  shake  the  sounding  marsh  ; or  from  the  shore 
'flio  plovers  when  to  scatter  o’er  the  lieath, 
c2 


30 


SPRING. 


And  sing  their  wild  notes  to  fhc  listening  waste. 

At  last  from  Aries  rolls  the  bounteous  sun, 

And  the  bright  Bull  receives  him.  Then  no  more 
Th’  expansive  atmosphere  is  cramp’d  with  cold; 

But,  full  of  life  and  vivifying  soul, 

Lifts  the  light  clouds  sublime,  and  spreads  tliern  thin 
I’leccy  and  white,  o’er  all-surrounding  heaven. 

Forth  tly  the  tepid  airs  ! and,  uncciinn’d, 
Unbinding  earth,  the  moving  softness  strays. 
Joyous,  th’  impatior.t  husbandman  perceives 
llclenting  Nature,  and  his  lusty  steers 
Drives  from  their  stalls,  to  wherethe  vvell-us’d  plough 
Tiies  in  the  furrow,  loosen’d  from  the  frost. 

'riierc,  unrefusing,  to  the  harness’d  yoke 
They  lend  their  shoulder,  and  begin  their  toil, 
Cheer’d  by  the. simple  song  and  soaring  lark. 
Meanwhile  incumbent  o'er  the  shining  share 
The  master  leans,  removes  the  obstructing  clay, 
Winds  the  whole  work,  and  sidelong  lays  the  glebe 
While  thro’  the  neighb’ring  fields  the  sower  .stalks, 
With  measur’d  step  ; and  liberal  throws  the  grain 
Into  the  faithful  bosom  of  the  ground  • 

The  harrow  follows  harsh,  and  shuts  the  scene. 

Be  gracious,  Heaven  ! for  now  laborious  man 
Has  done  his  part.  V"e  fostering  breezes,  blow  ! 

Ye  softening  dews,  ye  tender  showers,  descend  ! 

And  temper  all,  thou  world-reviving  suii, 

Into  the  perfect  year ! Nor  ye  who  live 
In  luxury  and  ease,  in  pomp  and  pride, 

'Hiink  tliese  lost  themes  unworthy  of  your  car 
Sucb  themes  as  these  the  rural  Maro  sung 


SPRING. 


33 


To  wide-imperial  Rome  in  the  full  height 
Of  elegance  and  taste,  by  Greece  refin'd. 

In  ancient  times,  the  sacred  plough  employ’d 
The  kings,  and  awful  fathers  .of  mankind  : 

And  some,  with  whom  compar’d,  your  insect  tribes 
Are  but  the  beings  of  a summer’s  day. 

Have  held  the  scale  of  empire,  rul’d  the  storm 
Of  mighty  war  ; then,  witli  unwearied  hand, 
Disdaining  little  delicacies,  seiz’d 
The  plough,  and  greatly  independent  liv’d. 

Ye  generous  Britons,  venerate  the  plough  ! 

And  o’er  your  hills,  and  long  vvithdrawirig^vales, 
Let  Autumn  spread  his  treasures  to  tlie  sun, 
Luxuriant  and  unbounded:  as  tlie  sea, 

Far  through  his  azure  turbulent  domain, 

Your  empire  owns,  and  from  a thousand  shores 
Wafts  all  the  pomp  of  life  into  your  ports; 

So  with  superior  boon  may  3'Our  rich  soil, 
Kxuberant,  Nature’s  better  blessings  pour 
O’er  every  land ; the  naked  nations  clothe  ; 

And  be  th’  exhaustless  granary  of  a world. 

Nor  only  through  the  lenient  air,  this  change 
Delicious  breathes ; the  penetrative  sun, 

His  force  deep  darting  to  the  dark  retreat 
Of  vegetation,  sets  the  steaming  Power 
At  large,  to  wander  o’er  the  vernant  earth, 

Jn  various  hues  ; but  chiefly  thee,  gay  green  ! 

Thou  smiling  Nature’s  universal  robe! 

Uiwte{l  light  and  shade!  wheie  the  sight  dwcils 
With  growing  strength,  and  ever-new  delight 
From  the  moist  meadow  to  the  wither’d  hill, 


32 


SPRING. 


Led  by  the  breeze,  the  vivid  verdure  runs, 

And  swells,  and  deepens,  to  the  cherish’d  eye. 

The  hawthorn  whitens  } and  the  juicy  groves 
Put  forth  their  buds,  unfolding'  by  degrees, 

Till  the  whole  leafy  forest  stands  display’d 
In  full  luxuriance,  to  the  sighing-  gales  , 

Where  the  deer  rustle  through  the  twining  brake, 
And  the  birds  sing  conceal’d.  At  once  array’d 
In  all  the  colours  of  the  flushing  year. 

By  Nature’s  swift  and  secret  working  hand. 

The  garden  glows,  and  fills  the  liberal  air 
With  lavish  fragrance  ; while  the  promis’d  fruit 
Lies  yet  a little  embryo,  unperceiv’d, 

Within  its  crimson  folds.  Now  from  the  town, 

Buried  in  smoke,  and  sleep,  and  noisome  damps. 

Oft  let  me  wander  o’er  the  dewy  fields,  [drops 

Where  freshness  breathes,  and  dash  the  trembling 
From  the  bent  bush,  as  through  the  verdant  maze 
Of  sweetbriar  hedges  I pursue  my  walk ; 

Or  taste  the  smell  of  dairy  ; or  ascend 
Some  eminence,  Augusta,  in  thy  plains. 

And  see  the  country,  far  diffus’d  around. 

One  boundless  blush,  one  white-empurpled  shower 
Of  mingled  blossoms}  where  the  raptur’d  eye 
Hurries  from  joy  to  joy,  and,  hid  beneath 
The  fair  profusion,  yellow  Autumn  spies  : 

II,  brush’d  from  Russian  wilds,  a cutting  gale 
Rise  not,  and  scatter  from  his  humid  wings 
The  clammy  mildew } or,  dry-blowing,  breathe 
Untimely  frost } before  whose  baleful  blast 
'i’hc  full-blown  Spring  through  all  her  foliag"  shrinks 


SPRING. 


33 


Joyless  and  dead,  a wide-dejected  waste. 

For  oft,  engender’d  by  the  hazy  north, 

Myriads  on  myriads,  insect  armies  warp 
Keen  in  the  poison’d  breeze;  and  wastefid  eat, 
Through  buds  and  bark,  into  the  blacken’d  core, 
Their  eager  way.  A feeble  race  I yet  oft 
The  sacred  sons  of  vengeance  ; on  whose  course 
Corrosive  Famine  waits,  and  kills  the  year. 

To  check  this  plague,  the  skilful  farmer  chaff 
And  blazing  straw,  before  his  orchard  burns 
Till,  all  involv’d  in  smoke,  the  latent  foe 
From  every  cranny  suffocated  falls  : 

Or  scatters  o’er  the  blooms  the  pungent  dust 
Of  pepper,  fatal  to  the  frosty  tribe  : 

Or,  when  ih’  envenom’d  leaf  begins  to  curl, 

With  sprinkled  water  drowns  them  in  their  nest; 
Nor,  while  they  pick  them  up  with  busy  bill. 

The  little  trooping  birds  unwisely  scares. 

Be  patient,  swains ; these  cruel  seeming  winds 
Blow  not  in  v'ain.  Far  hence  they  keep  repress’d 
Those  deep’ning  clouds  on  clouds,  surcharg’d  with 
That  o’er  the  vast  Atlantic  hither  borne,  [rain, 
In  endless  train,  w ould  quench  the  summer-blaze, 
x\nd,  cheerless,  drown  the  crude  unripen’d  year. 

The  north-east  spends  his  rage ; he  now  shut  up 
Within  his  iron  cave,  the  effusive  south 
Warms  the  wide  air,  and  o’er  the  void  of  heaven 
Breathes  the  big  clouds  w ith  vernal  showers  distent. 
At  first  a dusky  wTeath  they  seem  to  rise, 

Scarce  staining  ether  ; but  by  swift  degrees, 

In  heaps  on  heaps,  the  doubling  vapour  sails 


34 


SPRING 


Along  the  loaded  sky  , and  mingling  deep, 

Sits  on  th’  horizon  round  a settled  gloom  ; 

Not  such  as  wintry-storms  on  mortals  shed, 
Oppressing  life  ; but  lovely,  gentle,  kind, 

Andftdl  of  every  hope  and  every  joy. 

The  wish  of  Nature.  Gradual  sinks  the  breeze 
Into  a perfect  calm  ; that  not  a breath 
Is  heard  to  quiver  througli  the  closing  woods, 

Oi  rustling  turn  the  many-tvvinkiing  leaves 
Of  aspin  tall.  Th’  uncurling  floods,  difius’d 
In  glassy  breadth,  seem  through  delusive  lapse 
Forgetful  of  their  course.  ’Tis  silence  all. 

And  pleasing  expectation.  Herds  and  flocks 
Drop  the  dry  sprig,  and,  mute-imploring,  eye 
The  falling  verdure.  Husa’d  in  short  suspense, 

The  plumy  people  streak  their  wings  with  oil, 

To  throw  the  lucid  moisture  trickling  off. 

And  wait  th’  approaching  sign  to  strike,  at  once, 

Into  the  general  choir.  E’en  iiiountains,  vales, 

And  forests  seem,  impatient,  to  demand 
The  promis’d  sweetness.  Man  superior  walks 
Amid  the  glad  creation,  musing  praise, 

And  looking  lively  gratitude.  At  last, 

The  clouds  consign  their  treasures  to  the  flelds  ; 

And,  softly  sliaking  on  the  dimpled  pool 
Frelusive  drops,  let  all  tlieir  moisture  flow', 

In  large  effusion,  o’er  the  freshened  world. 

The  stealing  shower  is  scarce  to  patter  heard. 

By  such  as  wander  through  the  forest  walks, 

Beneath  th’  umbrageous  multitude  of  leaves. 

But  who  can  hold  the  shade,  while  Heaven  descends 


SPRING 


35 


In  universal  bounty,  shedding’  neros, 

And  fruits,  and  dowers,  on  Nature’s  ample  lap  r 
Swift  Fancy  fir’d,  anticipates  their  growth  ; 

And,  while  the  milky  nutriment  distils, 

Beholds  the  kindling  country  colour  round. 

Thus  all  day  long  the  full-distended  clouds 
Indulge  their  genial  stores,  and  well-shovver’d  ea^tli 
Is  deep  enrich’d  with  vegetable  life  ; 

Til!,  in  the  western  sky,  the  downward  sun 
Looks  out,  effulgent,  from  amid  the  flush 
Of  broken  clouds,  gay  shifting  to  his  beam. 

The  rapid  radiance  instantaneous  strikes 

Til’  illumin’d  mountain  through  the  forest  streams. 

Shakes  on  the  floods,  and  in  a yellow  mist, 

Far  smoking  o’er  th’  interminable  plain, 

In  twinkling  myriads  lights  the  dewy  gems. 

Moist, bright,  and  green,  the  landscape  lauglisaromul ; 
Full  sw'ell  the  woods  ; their  every  music  wakesj 
Mix’d  in  wild  concert  w ith  the  warbling  brooks 
Increas’d,  the  distant  bleatings  of  the  hills. 

And  hollovy  lows  responsive  from  the  vales. 

Whence  blending  all  the  sweeten’d  zephyr  springs 
Meantime,  refracted  from  yon  eastern  cloud, 
Bestriding  earth,  the  grand  ethereal  bow 
Shoots  up  immense:  and  every  hue  unfolds, 
la  fair  proportion  running  from  the  red, 

To  w here  the  violet  fades  into  the  sky. 

Here,  awful  Newton  ! the  dissolving  clouds 
Form,  fronting  on  the  sun,  thy  showery  prism  ; 

And  to  the  sage-instructed  eye  unfold 
’The  various  twine  of  light,  by  thee  disclos’d 


36 


SPRINCf. 


From  the  white  mingling  maze.  Not  so  the  boy  ; 
He  wondering  views  the  bright  enchantment  bend, 
Delightful,  o’er  the  radiant  fields,  and  runs 
To  catch  the  falling  glory  ; but  amaz’d 
Beholds  th’  amusive  arch  before  him  fly, 

Then  vanish  quite  away.  Still  night  succeeds, 

A soften’d  shade,  and  saturated  earth 
Awaits  the  morning-beam,  to  give  to  ligiu, 

Rais’d  through  ten  thousand  different  plastic  tubes. 
The  balmy  treasures  of  the  former  day. 

Then  spring  the  living  herbs,  profusely  wild. 

O’er  all  the  deep-green  earth,  beyond  the  power 
Of  botanists  to  number  up  their  tribes  : 

Whether  he  steals  along  the  lonely  dale. 

In  silent  search  ; or  through  the  forest, rank 
With  what  the  dull  incurious  weeds  account, 

Bursts  his  blind  way  ; or  climbs  the  mountain  rock, 
Fir’d  by  the  nodding  verdure  of  its  brow. 

With  such  a liberal  hand  has  Nature  flung 
Their  seeds  abroad, blown  them  about  in  winds, 
Innumefous  mixed  them  with  the  nursing  mould. 
The  moistening  current,  and  prolific  rain. 

But  who  their  virtues  can  declare  ? who  pierce, 
^Vith  vision  pure,  into  these  secret  stores 
Of  health,  and  life,  and  joy  ? The  food  of  Man, 
While  yet  he  liv’d  in  innocence,  and  told 
A length  of  golden  years  ; unflesh’d  in  blood, 

A stranger  to  the  savage  arts  of  life, 

Death,  rapine,  carnage,  surfeit,  and  disease  ; 

The  lord,  and  not  the  tyrant,  of  the  world. 

The  first  fresh  dawn  then  wak’d  the  gladden’d  race 


SPRING. 


37 


Of  uncorrupted  Man,  nor  blush’d  to  see 
The  sluggard  sleep  beneath  its  sacred  beam  , 

For  their  light  slumbers  gently  fum’d  away  ; 

And  up  they  rose  as  vigorous  as  the  sun, 

Or  to  the  culture  of  the  willing  glebe, 

Or  to  the  cheerful  tendance  of  the  flock. 

Meantime  the  song  went  round  ; and  dance  and  sport. 
Wisdom  and  friendly  talk,  successive,  stole 
Their  hours  away  : while  in  the  rosy  vale 
Love  breath’d  his  infant  sighs,  from  anguish  free. 
And  full  replete  with  bliss  } save  the  sweet  pain, 
That,  inly  thrilling,  but  exalts  it  more. 
iNoryet  injurious  act,  nor  surly  deed, 

AVas  known  among  those  happy  sons  of  heaven  ; 

For  reason  and  benevolence  were  law. 

Harmonious  Nature  too  look’d  smiling  on ; 

Clear  shone  the  skies,  cool’d  with  eternal  gales, 

And  balmy  spirit  all.  The  youthful  sun 
Shot  his  best  rays,  and  still  the  gracious  clouds 
Dropp’d  fatness  down  ; as  o’er  the  swelling  mead, 
The  herds  and  flocks,  commixing,  play’d  secure. 

This  when,  emergent  from  the  gloomy  wood. 

The  glaring  lion  saw,  his  horrid  heart 
Was  meekened,  and  he  join’d  his  sullen  joy  ; 

For  music  held  the  whole  in  perfect  peace ; 

Soft  sigh’d  the  flute  ; the  tender  voice  was  heard, 
^Varbling  the  varied  heart ; the  woodlands  round 
Apply’d  their  choir;  and  winds  and  waters  flow’d 
In  consonance.  Such  were  those  prime  of  days. 

But  now  those  white  unblemlsh’d  manners,  whence 
'Fhc  fabling  poets  took  their  golden  ngo, 

D 


38 


SPRING. 


Are  found  no  more  amid  these  iron  times, 

These  dregs  of  life  ! now  the  distemper’d  mind 
Has  lost  chat  concord  of  harmonious  powders, 

Which  forms  the  soul  of  happiness  ; and  all 

Is  off  the  poise  within  : the  passions  all 

Have  burst  their  bounds  ; and  reason,  half  extinct, 

Or  impotent,  or  else  approving,  sees 

Tlie  foul  disorder.  Senseless,  ancl  deform’d, 

Convulsive  anger  storms  at  large  ; or  pale, 

And  silent,  settles  into  fell  revenge. 

Base  envy  withers  at  another’s  joy. 

And  hates  that  excellence  it  cannot  reach. 
Desponding  fear,  of  feeble  fancies  full, 

Weak  and  unmanly,  loosens  every  power. 

E’en  love  itself  is  bitterness  of  soul, 

A pensive  anguish  pining  at  the  heart ; 

Or,  sunk  to  sordid  interest,  feels  no  more 
That  noble  wish,  that  never-cloy’d  desire. 

Which,  selfish  joy  disdaining,  seeks  alone 
To  bless  the  dearer  object  of  its  flame. 

Hope  sickens  with  extravagance  ; and  grief. 

Of  life  impatient,  into  madness  swells  ; 

Or  in  dead  silence  w^astes  the  weeping  hours. 

These,  and  a thousand  mixt  emotions  more, 

From  ever-changing  views  of  good  and  ill, 

Form’d  infinitely  various,  vex  the  mind 

With  endless  storm  : whence,  deeply  rankling,  grows 

The  partial  thought,  a listless  unconcern, 

(^old,  and  averting  from  our  neighbour’s  good  } 

Then  dark  disgust,  and  hatred,  winding  wiles, 
Cow'ard  deceit,  and  ruffian  violence  ; 


SPRING. 

it  last,  extinct  each  social  feeling,  fell 

And  joyless  inhumanity  pervades 

And  petrifies  the  heart.  Nature  disturbM 

Is  deem’d  vindictive,  to  have  chang’d  her  course. 

Hence,  in  old  dusky  time,  a deluge  came  : 

Wlicn  the  dedp-clcft  disparting  orb,  that  arch’d 
'j'lie  central  waters  round,  impetuous  rush’d, 

■\Vith  universal  burst,  into  the  gulf 

And  o’er  the  high-pil’d  hills  of  fractur’d  eartli 

Wide  dash’d  the  waves,  in  undulation  vast ; 

Till,  from  the  centre  to  the  streaming  clouds, 

A shoreless  ocean  tumbled  round  the  globe. 

The  Seasons  since  have,  with  severer  sway, 
Oppress’d  a broken  world  : the  Winter  keen 
Shook  forth  his  waste  of  snows ; and  Summer  shot 
His  pestilential  heats.  Great  Spring,  before, 
GreenM  all  the  year;  and  fruits  and  blossoms  blush’d, 
In  social  sweetness,  on  the  self-same  bough. 

Pure  was  the  temperate  air;  an  even  calm 
Perpetual  reign’d,  save  what  the  zephyrs  bland 
Breath'd  o’er  the  blue  expanse  : for  then  nor  stoims 
Were  taught  to  blow,  nor  hurricanes  to  rage  ; 

Sound  slept  the  waters  • no  sulphureous  glooms 
Swell'd  in  the  sky,  and  sent  the  lightning  forth; 
While  sickly  damps,  and  cold  autumnal  fogs, 

Hung  not,  relaxing,  on  the  springs  of  life. 

But  now,  of  turbid  elements  the  sport, 

From  clear  to  cloudy  tost,  from  hot  to  cold, 

And  dry  to  moist,  with  inward-eating  change. 

Our  drooping  da3i^s  are  dwindled  down  to  nought, 
Their  period  finish’d  ere  ’tis  well  begun. 


40 


SPRING. 


And  yet  the  wholesome  herb  neglected  dies  ; 
Though  with  the  pure  exhilarating  soul 
Of  nutriment  and  health,  and  vital  powers, 

Beyond  the  search  of  art,  ’tis  copious  blest. 

For,  with  hot  ravine  fir’d,  ensanguin’d  Man 
Is  now  become  the  lion  of  the  plain. 

And  worse.  The  wolf,  who  from  the  nightly  fold 
Fierce  drags  the  bleating  prey,  ne’er  drunk  her  milk, 
Nor  wore  her  warming  fleece  : nor  has  the  steer, 

At  whose  strong  chest  the  deadly  tiger  hangs, 

E’er  plough’d  for  him.  They  too  are  temper’d  high, 
With  hunger  stung  and  wild  necessity, 

Nor  lodges  pity  in  their  shaggy  breast. 

But  Man,  w hom  Nature  form’d  of  milder  clay, 

V/ith  every  kind  emotion  in  his  heart. 

And  taught  alone  to  weep  ; while  from  her  lap 
She  pours  ten  thousand  delicacies,  herbs. 

And  fruits,  as  numerous  as  the  drops  of  rain, 

Or  beams  that  gave  them  birth : shall  he,  fair  form  ! 
Who  wears  sweet  smiles,  and  looks  erect  on  heaven. 
E’er  stoop  to  mingle  w ith  the  prowling  herd. 

And  dip  his  tongue  in  gore  ? The  beast  of  prey, 
Blood-stain’d,  deserves  to  bleed  ; b^tyou,  ye  flocks, 
AVhat  have  ye  done;  ye  peaceful  people,  what, 

To  merit  death  ? you,  who  have  given  us  milk 
In  luscious  streams,  and  lent  us  jmur  own  coat 
Against  the  Winter’s  cold  ? And  the  plain  ox. 

That  harmless,  honest,  guileless  animal, 

In  what  has  he  offended  ? he,  whose  toil, 

Patient  and  ever  ready,  clothes  the  land 
With  all  the  pomp  of  harvest ; shall  he  bleed, 


SPRING 


41 


And  struggling  groan  beneath  the  cruel  hands 
E’en  of  the  clown  he  feeds  ? and  that,  perhaps, 

To  swell  the  riot  of  th’  autumnal  feast, 

VV’^on  by  his  labour?  Thus  the  feeling  heart 
Would  tenderly  suggest : but  ’tis  enough, 

In  this  late  age,  adventurous,  to  have  touch  I 
Light  on  the  numbers  of  the  Samian  sage. 

High  Heaven  forbids  the  bold  presumptuous  strain. 
Whose  wisest  will  has  fix’d  us  in  a state 
That  must  not  yet  to  pure  perfection  rise. 

Now  when  the  first  foul  torrent  of  the  brooks, 
Swell’dwith  the  vernal  rains,  is  ebb’d  away. 

And  whitening,  down  their  mossy-tinctur’d  stream 
Descends  the  billowy  foam  : now  is  the  time, 

While  yet  (he  dark -brown  water  aids  the  guile. 

To  tempt  the  trout.  The  well-dissembled  fly, 

The  rod  fine  tapering  with  elastic  spring. 

Snatch’d  from  the  hoary  steed  the  floating  line, 
And  all  thy  slender  wat’ry  stores  prepare. 

But  let  not  on  thy  hook  the  tortur’d  worm. 
Convulsive,  twist  in  agonizing  folds  ; 

Which  by  rapacious  hunger  swallow’d  deep, 

Gives,  as  you  tear  it  from  the  bleeding  breast 
Of  the  weak  helpless  uncomplaining  wretch. 

Harsh  pain  and  horror  to  the  tender  hand. 

When  with  his  lively  ray  the  potent  sun 
Has  pierc’d  the  streams,  and  rous’d  the  finny  race. 
Then,  issuing  cheerful,  to  thy  sport  repair ; 

C/hief  should  the  western  breezes  curling  play. 

And  light  o’er  ether  bear  the  shadowy  clouds. 

High  to  their  fount,  this  day,  amid  the  hills, 

D 2 


42 


SPRING 


And  woodlands  warbling-  round,  trace  u])  the  brooks 
The  next,  pursue  their  rocky  channel’d  maze, 
Down  to  the  river,  in  whose  ample  wave 
Their  little  naiads  love  to  sport  at  large. 

Just  in  the  dubious  point,  where  with  the  pool 
Is  mix’d  the  trembling  stream,  or  where  it  boils 
Around  the  stone,  or  from  the  hollow’d  bank 
Reverted  plays  in  undulating  flow, 

There  throv/,  nicc-judging,  the  delusive  fly  ; 

And  as  you  lead  it  round  in  artful  curve, 

With  eye  attentive  mark  the  springing  game. 
Straight  as  above  the  surface  of  the  flood 
Thev  wanton  rise,  or  urg’d  by  hunger  leap, 

Then  fix,  with  gentle  twitch,  the  barbed  hook : 

Some  lightly  tossing  to  the  grassy  bank, 

And  to  the  shelving  shore  slow^-dragging  some, 
IVith  various  hand  proportion'd  to  their  force. 

If  yet  too  young,  and  easily  deceiv'd, 

A worthless  prey  scarce  bends  your  pliant  rod, 
Him,  piteous  of  his  jmuth,  and  the  short  space 
He  has  enjoy’d  the  vital  light  of  heaven, 

Soft  disengage,  and  back  into  the  stream 
j'he  speckled  captive  throw'.  But  should  you  hur 
From  his  dark  haunt,  beneath  the  tangled  roots 
Of  pendent  trees,  the  monarch  of  the  brook, 
Behooves  you  then  to  ply  your  finest  art. 

T^ong  time  he,  following  cautious,  scans  the  fly  ; 
And  oft  attempts  to  seize  it,  but  as  oft 
The  dimpled  water  speaks  his  jealous  fear. 

At  last,  while  haply  o’er  the  shaded  sun 
I’asses  a cloud,  he  desperate  takes  the  death, 


SPRING. 


43 


With  sullen  plunge.  At  once  he  darts  along, 
Deep-struck,  and  runs  out  all  the  lengthened  line ; 
Then  seeks  the  furthest  ooze,  the  sheltering  weed, 
The  cavern’d  bank,  his  old  secure  abode  ; 

And  flies  aloft,  and  flounces  round  tlie  pool, 
Indignant  of  the  guile.  With  yielding  hand, 

'Fhat  feels  him  still,  yet  to  his  furious  course 
Gives  way,  you,  now  retiring,  following  now 
Across  the  stream,  exhaust  his  idle  rage  : 

Till,  floating  broad  upon  his  breathless  side. 

And  to  his  fate  abandon’d,  to  the  shore 
You  gaily  drag  your  unresisting  prize. 

Thus  pass  the  temperate  hours  ; but  when  the  sun 
Shakes  from  his  noonday  throne  thescatteringcloiids, 
E’en  shooting  listless  languor  through  the  deeps  , 
Then  seek  the  bank  where  flowering  elders  crowd ; 
Where  scattered  wild  the  lily  of  the  vale 
Its  balmy  essence  breathes  ; where  cowslips  hang 
The  dewy  head  ; where  purple  violets  lurk, 

With  ail  the  lowly  children  of  the  shade  : 

Or  lie  reclin’d  beneath  yon  spreading  ash. 

Hung  o’er  the  steep  ; whence,  borne  on  liquid  wing, 
The  sounding  culver  shoots  ; or  where  the  hawk, 
High,  in  the  beetling  cliff,  his  eyry  builds. 

There  let  the  classic  page  thy  fancy  lead 
Through  rural  scenes  ; such  as  the  Mantuan  swain 
Paints  in  the  matchless  harmony  of  song. 

Or  catch  thyself  the  landscape,  gliding  swift 
Athwart  imagination’s  vivid  eye  : 

Or  by  the  vocal  woods  and  waters  lull’d, 

And  lost  in  lonely  musing ; in  the  dream, 


44 


SPRING. 


Confus’d,  of  careless  solitude,  where  mix 
Ten  thousand  wandering  images  of  things, 

Sooth  every  gust  of  passion  into  peace  ; 

All  but  the  swellings  of  the  soften’d  heart, 

That  waken,  not  disturb,  the  tranquil  mind. 

Behold  yon  breathing  prospect  bids  the  Muse 
Throw  all  her  beauty  forth.  But  who  can  paint 
I /ike  Nature  ? Can  imagination  boast, 

#\mid  Its  gay  creation,  hues  like  hers  ? 

Or  can  it  mix  them  with  that  matchless  skill, 

And  lose  them  in  each  other,  as  appears 
In  every  bud  that  blows  ^ If  fancy  then 
Unequal  fails  beneath  the  pleasing  task, 

Ah,  what  shall  language  do?  Ah,  where  find  words 
Ting’d  with  so  many  colours,  and  whose  power, 

To  life  approaching,  may  perfume  my  lays 
With  that  fine  oil,  those  aromatic  gales, 

That  inexhaustive  flow  continual  round  ? 

Yet,  though  successless,  will  the  toil  delight. 

Come  then,  ye  virgins  and  ye  youths,  whose  hearts 
Have  felt  the  raptures  of  refining  love  ; 

And  thou,  Amanda,  come,  pride  of  my  song  ' 

Form’d  by  the  Graces,  loveliness  itself  1 
Come  with  those  downcast  eyes,  sedate  and  sweet, 
Those  looks  demure,  that  deeply  pierce  the  soul, 
Where,  w ith  the  light  of  thoughtful  reason  mix’d, 
Shines  lively  fancy  and  the  feeling  heart : 

Oh  come  ! and  while  the  rosy-footed  May 
Steals  blushing  on,  together  let  us  tread 
The  morning  dews,  and  gather  in  their  prime 
Fresh-blooming  flowers,  to  grace  thy  braided  hair, 


SPRING 


4o 


And  thy  lov’d  bosom  (hat  improves  their  sweets. 
See,  where  the  winding-  vale  its  lavish  stores, 
Irriguous,  spreads.  See,  how  the  lily  drinks 
TIjc  latent  rill,  scarce  oozing  through  tlie  grass, 

Of  growth  luxuriant ; or  the  humid  bank. 

In  fair  profusion,  decks.  Long  let  us  walk, 

Where  the  breeze  blows  from  yon  extended  field 
Oi  blossom’d  beans.  Arabia  cannot  boast 
A fuller  gale  of  joy,  than,  liberal,  thence 
Bi  eaihes  through  the  sense,  and  takes  the  ravish’d  soul 
Nor  is  the  mead  unworthy  of  thy  foot. 

Full  of  fresh  verdure,  and  imnumber’d  flowers. 

The  negligence  of  Nature,  wide,  and  wild  *, 

W here,  undisguis’d  by  mimic  Art,  she  spreads 
Unbounded  beauty  to  the  roving  eye. 

Here  their  delicious  task  the  fervent  bees. 

In  swarming  millions,  tend  : around,  athwart, 
Through  the  soft  air,  the  busy  nations  fly. 

Cling  to  the  bud,  and  with  inserted  tube. 

Suck  its  pure  essence,  its  ethereal  soul ; 

And  oft,  with  bolder  wing,  they  soaring  dare 
The  »)urple  heath,  or  where  the  wild  thyme  grows, 
And  yellow  load  them  with  the  luscious  spoil. 

At  length  the  finish’d  garden  to  the  view 
its  vistas  opens,  and  its  alleys  green. 

Snatch’d  through  the  verdant  maze,  the  hurried  e}e 
Distracted  wanders ; now  the  bowery  walk 
Of  covert  close,  where  scarce  a speck  of  day 
f alls  on  the  lengthen’d  gloom,  protracted  sweeps 
Now'  meets  the  bending  sky  ; the  river  now 


46 


SPRINb 


Dimpling  along,  the  breezy  ruffled  lake, 

The  forest  darkening  round,  the  glittering  spire, 
Th’  ethereal  mountain,  and  the  distant  main. 

But  why  so  far  excursive  ? when  at  hand, 

Along  these  blushing  borders,  bright  with  dew, 
And  in  yon  mingled  wilderness  of  flowers, 

Fair  handed  Spring  unbosoms  every  grace  ; 
Throws  out  the  snow-drop,  and  the  crocus  first 
The  daisy,  primrose,  violet  darkly  blue. 

And  polyanthus  of  unnumbered  dyes  ; 

The  yellow  wall-flower,  stain’d  with  iron  brown 
And  lavish  stock  that  scents  the  garden  round  : 
From  the  soft  wing  of  vernal  breezes  shed, 
Anemonies ; auriculas,  enrich’d 
With  shining  meal  o’er  all  their  velvet  leaves  ; 

And  full  ranunculas,  of  glowing  red. 

Then  comes  the  tulip-race,  where  Beauty  plays 
Her  idle  freaks  j from  family  diffus’d 
To  family,  as  flies  the  father-dust. 

The  varied  colours  run  ; and,  while  they  break 
On  the  charm’d  eye,  th’  exulting  florist  marks. 
With  secret  pride,  the  wonders  of  his  hand. 

No  gradual  bloom  is  w anting  ; from  the  buJ, 
First-born  of  Spring,  to  Summer’s  musky  tribes 
Nor  hyacinths,  of  purest  virgin  white, 

Low-bent,  and  blushing  inward  ; nor  jonquilles. 
Of  potent  fragrance  ; nor  Narcissus  fair, 

As  o’er  the  fabled  fountain  hanging  still ; 

Nor  broad  carnations,  nor  gay-spotted  pinks  ; 
Nor,  shower’d  from  every  bush,  the  damask- rose. 


SPRING, 


4: 


Infinite  numbers,  delicacies,  smells, 

With  hues  on  hues  expression  cannot  paint, 

I'.he  breath  of  Nature,  and  her  endless  bloom. 

Hail,  Source  of  Being  ! Universal  Soul 
Of  heaven  and  earth  ! Essential  Presence,  hail ! 

To  Thee  I bend  the  knee  ; to  Thee  my  thoughts. 
Continual,  climb  ; who,  with  a master  hand. 

Hast  the  great  whole  into  perfection  touch’d. 

By  Thee  the  various  vegetative  tr  ibes. 

Wrapt  in  a filmy  net,  and  clad  with  leaves. 

Draw  the  live  ether,  and  imbibe  the  dew  : 

By  Tliee  dispos’d  into  congenial  soils, 

Stands  each  attractive  plant,  and  sucks,  and  swells 
The  juicy  tide  j a twining  mass  of  tubes. 

At  Thy  command  the  vernal  sun  awakes 
The  torpid  sap,  detruded  to  the  root 
By  wintry  winds  ; that  now  in  fluent  dance, 

And  lively  fermentation,  mountirig,  spreads 
All  this  innumerous-coloured  scene  of  things. 

As  rising  from  the  vegetable  world 
My  theme  ascends,  with  equal  wing  ascend. 

My  panting  Muse;  and  hark,  how  loud  tiie  woods 
Invite  you  forth  in  all  your  gayest  trin*. 

Lend  me  your  song,  ye  nightingales  ! oh,  pour 
The  mazy-running  soul  of  melody 
Into  my  varied  verse  ! while  I deduce, 

From  the  first  note  the  hollow  cuckoo  sings, 

The  symphony  of  Spring,  and  touch  a theme 
Unknown  to  fame — tlie  Passion  of  the  Groves 

When  first  the  soul  of  love  is  sent  abroad, 

Warm  through  the  vital  air,  and  on  the  heart 


48 


SPRING. 


Harmonious  seizes,  the  ga.y  troops  begin, 

In  gallant  thought,  to  plume  the  painted  wing ; 

And  try  again  the  long-forgotten  strain. 

At  first  faint-warbled.  But  no  sooner  grows 
The  soft  infusion  prevalent,  and  wide, 

Than,  all  alive,  at  once  their  joy  o’erflows 
In  music  unconfin’d.  Up  springs  the  lark, 
Shrill-voic’d,  and  loud,  the  messenger  of  morn  , 
Ere  yet  the  shadows  fiy,  he  mounted  sings 
Amid  the  dawning  clouds,  and  from  their  haunts 
Calls  up  the  tuneful  nations.  Every  copse 
Depp  tangled,  tree  irregular,  and  bush 
Bending  with  dewy  moisture,  o’er  the  heads 
Of  the  coy  choristers  that  lodge  within. 

Are  prodigal  of  harmony.  The  thrush 
And  woodlark,  o’er  the  kind  contending  throng 
Superior  heard,  run  through  the  sweetest  length 
Of  notes  ; when  listening  Philomela  deigns 
To  let  them  joy,  and  purposes,  in  thought 
Elate,  to  make  her  night  excel  their  day. 

The  black-bird  whistles  from  the  thorny  brake  ; 
The  mellow  bullfinch  answers  from  the  grove  ; 

Nor  are  the  linnets,  o’er  the  flowering  furze 
Pour’d  out  profusely,  silent.  Join’d  to  these, 
Innumerous  songsters,  in  the  freshening  shade 
Of  new-sprung  leaves,  their  modulations  mix 
Mellifluous.  The  jay,  the  rook,  the  daw. 

And  each  harsh  pipe,  discordant  heard  alone. 

Aid  the  full  concert : while  the  stock-dove  breatnes 
A melancholy  murmur  through  the  whole. 

’Tis  love  creates  their  melody,  and  all 


SPRING. 


4^^ 


This  waste  of  music  is  the  voice  of  Jove  ; 

That  e’en  to  birds  and  beasts,  the  tender  arts 
Of  pleasing  teaches.  Hence  the  gloss nino 
Try  every  winning  way  inventive  love 
Can  dictate,  and  in  courtship  to  their  ma^es 
Four  forth  their  little  souls.  First  wide  ai  OMud, 
With  distant  awe,  in  airy  ringsthey  rove, 
Endeavouring  by  a thousand  tricks  to  catcii 
The  cunning,  conscious,  half-averted  glance 
Of  their  regardless  charmer.  Should  she  seem. 
Softening,  the  least  approvance  to  bestow, 

Their  colours  burnish,  and  by  hope  inspir’d, 

They  brisk  advance  ; then,  on  a sudden  struck, 
Retire  disorder’d ; then  again  approach  ; 

In  fond  rotation  spread  the  spotted  wing, 

And  shiver  every  feather  with  desire. 

Connubial  leagues  agreed,  to  the  deep  woods 
They  haste  away,  all  as  their  fancy  leads, 
Pleasure,  or  food,  or  secret  safety  promp.ts  ; 

That  Nature’s  great  command  may  be  obey’d  • 
Nor  all  the  sweet  sensations  they  perceive 
Indulg’d  in  vain.  Some  to  the  holly-lu'dge 
Nestling  repair,  and  to  the  thicket  some  ; 

Some  to  the  rude  protection  of  the  thorn 
Commit  their  feeble  offspring  : The  cleft  tree 
Offers  its  kind  concealment  to  a few  , 

Their  food  its  insects,  and  its  moss  their  nests. 
Others  apart  far  in  the  grassy  dale. 

Or  roughening  waste,  their  humble  texture  weave. 
But  most  in  woodland  solitudes  delight ; 

In  unfrequented  glooms,  or  shaggy  banks, 

4 B 


50 


SPRING. 


Steep,  and  divided  by  a babbling  brook, 

Whose  murmurs  sooth  them  all  the  live-long  day, 
When  by  kind  duty  fix’d.  Among  the  roots 
Of  hazel,  pendent  o’er  the  plaintive  stream. 

They  frame  the  first  foundation  of  their  domes  j 
Dry  sprigs  of  trees,  in  artful  fabric  laid. 

And  bound  with  clay  together.  Now  ’tis  nought 
But  restless  hurry  through  the  busy  air. 

Beat  by  unnumbered  wings.  The  swallow  sweeps 
The  slimy  pool,  to  build  his  hanging  house 
Intent.  And  often,  from  the  careless  back 
Of  herds  and  flocks,  a thousand  tugging  bills 
Pluck  hair  and  wool ; and  oft,  when  unobserv’d, 
Steal  from  the  barn  a straw  : till  soft  and  warm 
Clean  and  complete,  their  habitation  grows. 

As  thus  the  patient  dam  assiduous  sits. 

Not  to  be  tempted  from  her  tender  task. 

Or  by  sharp  hunger,  or  by  smooth  delight. 

Though  the  whole  loosen’d  Spring  around  her  blows 
Her  sympathizing  lover  takes  his  stand 
High  on  th’  opponent  bank,  and  ceaseless  sings 
The  tedious  time  away ; or  else  supplies 
Her  place  a moment,  while  she  sudden  flits 
To  pick  the  scanty  meal.  Th’  appointed  time 
With  pious  toil  fulfill’d,  the  callow  young. 

Warm’d  and  expanded  into  perfect  life. 

Their  brittle  bondage  break  ; and  come  to  light, 

A helpless  family,  demanding  food 

With  constant  clamour : 0 what  passions  then, 

What  melting  sentiments  of  kindly  care. 

On  the  new  parents  seize  I Away  they  fly 


SPRING. 


51 


Affectionate,  and  undesiring-  bear 
I’he  most  delicious  morsel  to  their  young  ; 

Which  equally  distributed,  again 

The  search  begins.  E’en  so  a gentle  pair, 

By  fortune  sunk,  but  form’d  of  generous  mould, 

And  charm’d  with  cares  beyond  the  vulgar  breast 
In  some  lone  cot  amid  the  distant  woods. 

Sustain’d  alone  by  providential  Heaven  ; 

Oft,  as  they  weeping  eye  their  infant  train, 

Check  their  own  appetites,  and  give  them  all. 

Nor  toil  alone  they  scorn  : Exalting  love. 

By  the  great  Father  of  the  Spring  inspir’d, 

Gives  instant  courage  to  the  fearful  race. 

And  to  the  simple,  art.  With  stealthy  wing, 

Should  some  rude  foot  their  woody  haunts  molest, 
Amid  a neighbouring  bush  they  silent  drop, 

And  whirring  thence,  as  if  alarm’d,  deceive 
Th’  unfeeling  school-boy.  Hence  around  the  head 
Of  wandering  swain,  the  white-wing’d  plover  wheels 
Her  sounding  flight ; and  then  directly  on 
in  long  excursion  skims  the  level  lawn. 

To  tempt  him  from  her  nest.  The  wild-duck,  hence, 
O’er  the  rough  moss,  and  o’er  the  trackless  waste  j *2 
The  heath-hen  flutters,  pious  fraud  ! to  lead  / ^ 
The  hot  pursuing  spaniel  far  astray. 

Be  not  the  muse  asham’d  here  to  bemoan  ^ 

Her  brothers  of  the  grove,  by  tyrant  Man 
inhuman  caught,  and  in  the  narrow  cage  ^ 

From  liberty  confin’d,  and  boundless  air. 

Dull  are  the  pretty  slaves,  their  plumage  dull,  , >• 
Bagged,  and  all  its  brightening  lustre 


SPRING 


0‘i 

iNoj  is  that  sprightly  wildness  in  their  notes, 

Which,  clear  and  vigorous,  warbles  from  the  beech. 
O then,  ye  friends  of  love  and  love-taught  song, 
Spare  the  soft  tribes,  this  barbarous  art  forbear  ; 

If  on  your  bosom  innocence  can  win, 

Music  engage,  or  piety  persuade. 

But  let  not  chief  the  nightingale  lament 
Her  ruin’d  care,  too  delicately  fram’d 
To  brook  the  harsh  confinement  of  the  cage. 

Oft  when,  returning  with  her  loaded  bill, 

Th’  astonish’d  mother  finds  a vacant  nest, 

By  the  hard  hand  of  unrelenting  clowns 
Robb’d,  to  the  ground  the  vain  provision  falls 
Her  pinions  rufile,  and,  low-drooping,  scarce 
Can  bear  the  mourner  to  the  poplar  shade  ; 

Where,  all  abandon’d  to  despair,  she  sings 

Her  sorrows  through  the  night ; and  on  the  bough. 

Sole-sitting,  still  at  every  dying  fall 

Takes  up  again  her  lamentable  strain 

Of  winding  wo ; till,  wide  around,  the  woods 

Sigh  to  her  song,  and  with  her  wail  resound. 

But  now  the  feather’d  youth  their  former  bounds, 
Ardent,  disdain  ; and,  weighing  oft  their  wings, 
Demand  the  free  possession  of  the  sky : 

This  one  glad  ofiice  more,  and  then  dissolves 
Parental  love  at  once,  now  needless  grown. 

Unlavish  Wisdom  never  works  in  vain. 

’Tis  on  some  evening,  sunny,  grateful,  mild, 

When  nought  but  balm  is  breathing  thro’  the  woods, 
With  yellow  lustre  bright,  that  the  new  tribes 
Visit  the  spacious  heavens,  and  look  abroad 


SPRING, 


63 


On  Nature’s  common,  far  as  they  can  see, 

Or  wing-,  their  range  and  pasture.  O’er  the  boughs 
Dancing  about,  still  at  the  giddy  verge 
Their  resolution  fails  ; their  pinions  still, 

In  loose  libration  stretch’d,  to  trust  the  void 
Tremfding  refuse  : Till  dowm  before  them  fly 
The  parent  guides,  and  chide,  exhort,  command. 

Or  push  them  off.  The  surging  air  receives 
Its  pli^my  burden  ; and  their  self-taught  wings 
Winnow  the  waving  element.  On  ground 
Alighted- bolder  up  again  they  lead, 

Further  attd  further  on,  the  lengthening  flight ; 

I'ill  vanish’d  every  fear,  and  every  power 
Rous’d  into  life  and  action,  light  in  air 
Th’  acquitted  parent  see  their  soaring  race, 

4nd,  once  rejoicing,  never  know  them  more 

High  from  the  summit  of  a craggy  cliff, 

Ilun-g  o’er  the  deep,  such  as  amazing  frowns 
On  utmost  Kilda’s*  shore ; whose  lonely  race 
Resign  the  setting  sun  to  Indian  worlds. 

The  royal  eagle  draws  his  vigorous  young, 
Slrong-poLinc’d,  and  ardent  with  parental  fire; 

Now  fit  to  raise  a kingdom  of  their  own. 

He  drives  them  from  his  fort,  the  towering  seat, 

For  ages,  of  his  empire  ; which,  in  peace. 

Unstain’d  he  holds,  while  many  a league  to  sea 
He  wings  his  course,  and  preys  in  distant  isles. 

Should  I my  steps  turn  to  the  rural  seat, 

Whose  lofty  elms,  and  venerable  oaks, 

* Tlie  furthest  of  the  ivestern  islands  of  Scvllnna. 

£ 2 


64 


SPRING. 


Invite  the  rook,  who  high  amid  the  boughs, 

In  early  Spring,  his  airy  city  builds, 

And  ceaseless  caws  amusive ; there,  well-pleas’d, 

I might  the  various  polity  survey 

Of  the  niixt  household  kind.  The  careful  hen 

Calls  all  her  chirping  family  around, 

F ed  and  defended  by  the  fearless  cock  ; 

Whose  breast  with  ardour  flames,  as  on  he  walks. 
Graceful,  and  crows  defiance.  In  the  pond, 

The  finely-checker’d  duck,  before  her  train. 

Rows  garrulous.  The  stately-sailing  swan 
Gives  out  his  snowy  plumage  to  the  gale  ; 

And,  arching  proud  his  neck,  with  oary  feet 
Bears  forward  fierce,  and  guards  his  osier-isle, 
Protective  of  his  young.  The  turkey  nigh, 
Loud-threatening,reddens;  while  the  peacock  spreads 
His  every-colour’d  glory  to  the  sim. 

And  swims  in  radiant  majesty  along. 

O’er  the  whole  homely  scene,  the  cooing  dove 
Flies  thick  in  amorous  chase,  and  wanton  rolls 
The  glanceing  eye,  and  turns  the  changeful  neck. 

While  thus  the  gentle  tenants  of  the  shade 
Indulge  their  })urer  loves,  the  rougher  world 
Of  brutes,  below,  rush  furious  into  flame. 

And  fierce  desire.  Through  all  his  lusty  veins 
The  bull,  deep-scorch’d,  the  raging  passion  feels. 

Of  pasture  sick,  and  negligent  of  food. 

Scarce  seen,  he  wades  among  the  yellow  broom. 
While  o’er  his  ample  sides  the  rambling  sprays 
Luxuriant  shoot ; or  through  the  mazy  wood 
Dejected  wanders  ; nor  th’  enticing  bud 


SPRING. 


Crops,  though  it  presses  on  his  careless  sense. 

Aud  oft,  in  jealous  madd’ning  fancy  wrapt, 

He  seeks  the  fight;  and  idly-butting  feigns 
His  rival  gor’d  in  every  knotty  trunk. 

Him  should  he  meet,  the  bellowing  war  begins  : 
Their  eyes  flash  fury  ; to  the  hollow’d  earth 
Whence  the  sand  flies,  they  mutter  bloody  deeds, 
And  groaning  deep,  the  impetuous  battle  mix  * 

While  the  fair  heifer,  balmy-breathing,  near. 

Stands  kindling  up  their  rage.  The  trembling  steed, 
With  this  hot  impulse  seized  in  every  nerve, 

Xor  heeds  the  rein,  nor  hears  the  sounding  thong : 
Blows  are  not  felt ; but  tossing  high  his  head. 

And  by  the  well-known  joy  to  distant  plains 
Attracted  strong,  all  wild  he  bursts  away  ; 

O’er  rocks,  and  woods,  and  craggy  mountains  flies  ; 
And,  neighing,  on  tli’  aerial  summit  takes 
Th’  exciting  gale  ; then,  steep- descending,  cleaves 
The  headlong  torrents  foaming  down  the  hills, 

K’en  where  the  madness  of  the  straiten’d  stream 
Turns  in  black  eddies  round  : such  is  the  force 
With  which  his  frantic  heart  and  sinews  swell. 

Nor  undelighted  by  the  boundless  Spring 
Are  the  broad  monsters  of  the  foaming  deep*. 

From  the  deep  ooze  and  gelid  cavern  rous’d, 

They  flounce  and  tumble  in  unw  ieldy  joy. 

Dire  were  the  strain,  and  dissonant,  to  sing 
The  cruel  raptures  of  the  savage  kind : 

How  by  this  flame  their  native  wrath  sublim’d, 

They  roam,  amid  the  fury  of  their  heart,  ^ 

The  far-resounding  w aste  in  fiercer  bands,  ( 


56 


SPRING. 


And  growl  their  horrid  loves.  But  this  the  theme 
} sing,  enraptur’d,  to  the  British  fair, 

Forbids,  and  leads  me  to  the  mountain -brow, 

Where  sits  the  shepherd  on  the  grassy  turf 
Inhaling,  hcathful,  the  descending  sun. 

Around  him  feeds  his  many-bleating  flock, 

Of  various  cadence  ; and  his  sportive  lambs, 

! This  way  and  tnat  convolv’d,  in  friskful  glee, 

■ Their  frolics  play.  And  now  the  sprightly  race 
Invites  them  forth  ; when  swift,  the  signal  given. 
They  start  away,  and  sweep  the  mossy  mound 
That  runs  around  the  hill ; the  rampart  once 
Of  iron  war,  in  ancient  barbarous  times, 

When  disunited  Britain  ever  bled. 

Lost  in  eternal  broil : ere  yet  she  grew 
To  this  deep-laid  indissoluble  state, 

^Vhere  Wealth  and  Commerce  lift  their  golden  heads} 
And  o’er  our  labours.  Liberty  and  Law, 
impartial,  watch  ; the  wonder  of  a world ! 

What  is  this  mighty  breath,  ye  sages,  say, 

That,  in  a powerful  language,  felt,  not  heard. 
Instructs  the  fowls  of  heaven  I and  through  their  breast 
These  arts  of  love  diflfuses  ? What,  but  God ! 
Inspiring  God  ! who,  boundless  Spirit  all. 

And  unremitting  Energy,  pervades. 

Adjusts,  sustains,  and  agitates  the  whole. 

He  ceaseless  works  alone;  and  yet  alone 
Seems  not  to  work  : With  such  perfection  fram’d 
h this  complex  stupendous  scheme  of  things. 

But,  though  conceaTd,  to  every  purer  eye 
Tli’  informing  Author  in  his  works  appears 


SPRING. 


57 


Chief,  lovely  Spring  ! in  thee,  and  thy  soft  scenes. 
The  Smiling  God  is  seen  ; while  water,  earth, 

And  air  attest  his  bounty  ; which  exalts 
The  brute  creation  to  this  finer  thought. 

And  annual  melts  their  undesigning  hearts 
Profusely  thus  in  tenderness  and  joy.  ,, 

Still  let  my  song  a nobler  note  assume. 

And  sing  tli’  infusive  force  of  Spring  on  man  ; 

^Vhen  heaven  and  earth,  as  if  contending,  vie 
To  raise  his  being,  and  serene  his  soul. 

Can  he  forbear  to  join  the  general  smile 
Of  Nature  ? Can  fierce  passions  vex  his  breast 
While  every  gale  is  peace,  and  every  grove 
Is  melody  ? hence  1 from  the  bounteous  walks 
Of  flowing  Spring,  ye  sordid  sons  of  earth. 

Hard,  and  unfeeling  of  another’s  wo  ; 

Or  only  lavish  to  yourselves  ; away  ! 

But  come,  ye  generous  minds,  in  whose  wide  thought, 
Of  all  his  works,  creative  Bounty  burns 
With  warmest  beam ; and  on  your  open  front 
And  liberal  eye,  sits,  from  his  dark  retreat 
Inviting  modest  Want.  Nor,  till  invok’d. 

Can  restless  goodness  wait : your  active  search 
Leaves  no  cold  wintry  corner  unexplor’d  ; 
liike  silent-working  Heaven,  surprising  oft 
The  lonely  heart  with  unexpected  good. 

For  you  the  roving  spirit  of  the  wind 
Blows  Spring  abroad ; for  you  the  teeming  clouds 
Descend  in  gladsome  plenty  o’er  the  world } 

And  the  sun  sheds  his  kindest  rays  for  you, 

Vc  flower  of  human  race  ! In  these  green  days. 


68 


SPRING. 


Reviving  Sickness  lifts  her  languid  head  ; 

Life  flows  afresh ; and  young-eyed  Health  exalts 
The  whole  creation  round.  Contentment  walks 
The  sunny  glade,  and  feels  an  inward  bliss 
Spring  o’er  his  mind,  beyond  the  power  of  kings 
To  purchase.  Pure  serenity' apace 
Induces  thought  and  contemplation  still 
By  swift  degrees  the  love  of  Nature  works 
And  warms  the  bosom  j till  at  last  sublim’d 
To  rapture,  and  enthusiastic  heat. 

We  feel  the  present  Deity,  and  taste 
The  joy  of  God  to  see  a happy  world  ! 

These  are  the  sacred  feelings  of  thy  heart. 

Thy  heart  inform’d  by  reason’s  purer  ray, 

O Lyttelton,  the  friend!  thy  passions  thus 
And  meditations  vary,  as  at  large. 

Courting  the  Muse,  thro’  Hagly  Park  thou  stray ’st ; 
Thy  British  Tempe  1 there  along  the  dale. 

With  woods  o’er-hung,and  shagg’d  w ith  mossy  rocki, 
Whence  on  each  hand  the  gushing  w'aters  play. 

And  down  the  rough  cascade  white-dashing  fall, 

Or  gleam  in  lengthen’d  vista  through  the  trees. 

You  silent  steal ; or  sit  beneath  the  shade 
Of  solemn  oaks,  that  tuft  the  swelling  mounts 
Thrown  graceful  round  by  Nature’s  careless  hand 
And  pensive  listen  to  the  various  voice 
Of  rural  peace.  The  herds  and  flocks,  the  birds, 
The  hollow-whispering  breeze,  the  plaint  of  rills. 
That,  purling  down  amid  the  twisted  roots 
Which  creep  around,  their  dewy  murmurs  shake 
On  the  sooth’d  ear.  From  these  abstracted  oft, 


SPRING. 


You  wander  through  the  philosophic  world  ; 

Where  in  bright  train  continual  wonders  rise, 

Or  to  the  curious  or  the  pious  eye. 

And  oft,  conducted  by  historic  truth, 

You  tread  the  long  extent  of  backward  time  ; 
Planning,  with  warm  benevolence  of  mind, 

And  honest  zeal  unwarp’d  by  party  rage, 
i Britannia  s weal;  how  from  the  venal  gulf 
j To  raise  her  virtue,  and  her  arts  revive. 

Or,  turning  thence  thy  view,  these  graver  thoughts 
' The  Muses  charm  : While,  with  sure  taste  refin’d, 

, You  draw  the  inspiring  breath  of  ancient  song  ; 

Till  nobly  rises,  emulous,  thy  own. 

Perhaps  thy  lov’d  Lucinda  shares  thy  walk, 

With  soul  to  thine  attun’d.  Then  Nature  all 
Wears  to  the  lover’s  eye  a look  oflove  ; 

And  all  the  tumult  of  a guilty  world. 

Tost  by  ungenerous  passions,  sinks  away 
The  tender  heart  is  animated  peace ; 

And  as  it  pours  its  copious  treasures  fortn, 

In  varied  converse,  softening  every  theme. 

You,  frequent  pausing,  turn,  and  from  her  eyer, 
^Vhere  meeken’d  sense,  and  amiable  grace, 

And  lively  sweetness  dwell,  enraptur’d,  drink 
That  nameless  spirit  of  ethereal  joy, 

Unutterable  happiness  ! which  love 
Alone  bestows,  and  on  a favour’d  few. 

Meantime  you  gain  the  height,  from  whose  fair  brow 
The  bursting  prospect  spreads  immense  around  ; 

And  snatch’d  o’er  hill  and  dale,  and  wood  and  lawn 
And  verdant  field,  and  darkening  heath  between 


m 


SPRING. 


And  villages  embosom’d  soft  in  trees, 

And  spiry  towns  by  surging  columns  mark’d 
Of  household  smoke,  your  eye  excursive  roams  : 
Wide-stretching  from  the  hall,  in  whose  kind  haunt 
The  hospitable  Genius  lingers  still. 

To  where  the  broken  landscape,  by  degrees. 
Ascending,  roughens  into  rigid  hills  j 
O’er  which  the  Cambrian  mountains,  like  far  clouds 
That  skirt  the  blue  horizon,  dusky  rise. 

Flush’d  by  the  spirit  of  the  genial  year, 

Now  from  the  virgin’s  cheek  a fresher  bloom 
Slioots,  less  and  less,  the  live  carnation  round  ; 

Her  lips  blush  deeper  sweets;  she  breathes  of  youth  ; 
The  shining  moisture  swells  into  her  eyes. 

In  brighter  flow  ; her  wishing  bosom  heaves, 

With  palpitations  wild  ; kind  tumults  seize 
Her  veins,  and  all  her  yielding  soul  is  love. 

F rom  the  keen  gaze  her  lover  turns  away, 

Full  of  the  dear  ecstatic  power,  and  sick 
With  sighing  languishment.  Ah  then,  ye  fair ! 

Be  greatly  cautious  of  your  sliding  hearts  : 

Dare  not  th’  infectious  sigh  ; the  pleading  look, 
Downcast,  and  low,  in  meek  submission  drest. 

But  full  of  guile.  Let  not  the  fervent  tongue, 
Prompt  to  deceive,  with  adulation  smooth, 

Gain  on  your  purpos’d  will.  Nor  in  the  bower, 
Where  woodbines  flaunt,  and  roses  shed  a couch. 
While  Evening  draws  her  crimson  curtains  round. 
Trust  your  soft  minutes  with  betraying  Man. 

And  let  th’  aspiring  youth  beware  of  love. 

Of  the  smooth  glance  beware ; for  ’tis  too  late. 


SPRING. 


61 


When  on  his  heart  the  torrent  softness  pours ; 

Then  wisdom  prostrate  lies,  and  fading-  fame 
Dissolves  in  air  away ; wliile  the  fond  soul, 

Wrapt  in  gay  visions  of  unreal  bliss, 

Still  paints  the  illusive  form  ; the  kindling  grace; 
Th’  enticing  smile  ; the  modest-seeming  eye, 
Beneath  whose  beauteous  beams,  belying  heaven, 
Lurks  searchless  cunning,  cruelty,  and  death : 

And  still  false-warbling  in  his  cheated  ear. 

Her  siren-voice,  enchanting,  draws  him  on 
To  guileful  shores,  and  meads  of  fatal  joy. 

E'en  present,  in  the  very  lap  of  love 
Inglorious  laid  ; while  music  flows  around, 
Perfumes,  and  oils,  and  wine,  and  wanton  hours  ; 
Amid  the  roses  fierce  repentance  rears 
Her  snaky  crest : a quick-returning  pang 
Shoots  thro’  the  conscious  heart ; where  honour  still, 
And  great  design,  against  th’  oppressive  load 
Ot  luxury,  by  fits,  impatient  heave. 

But  absent,  what  fantastic  woes,  arous’d, 

Rage  in  each  thought,  by  restless  musing  fed,  . 

Chill  the  warm  cheek,  and  blast  the  bloom  of  life 
Neglected  fortune  flies  ; and  sliding  swift, 

Prone  into  ruin,  fall  his  scorn’d  affairs. 

’Tis  nought  but  gloom  around  : The  darken’d  sun 
Loses  his  light ; The  rosy  bosom’d  Spring 
To  weeping  Fancy  pines  ; and  yon  bright  arch, 

Coi  eracted,  bends  into  a dusky  vault. 

All  Nature  fades  extinct ; and  she  alone 
Hesjrd,  felt,  and  seen,  possesses  every  thought, 

Fills  every  sense,  and  pants  in  every  vein. 

F 


02 


SPRING 


Books  are  but  formal  dulness,  tedious  friends  ; 
And  sad  amid  the  social  band  he  sits, 

Lonely,  and  unattentive.  F rom  his  tongue 
Th’  unfinish’d  period  falls : while,  borne  away 
On  swelling  thought,  his  wafted  spirit  flies 
To  the  vain  bosom  of  his  distant  fair ; 

And  leaves  the  semblance  of  a lover,  fix’d 
In  melancholy  site,  with  head  declin’d. 

And  love-dejected  eyes.  Sudden  he  starts. 

Shook  from  his  tender  trance,  and  restless  runs 
To  glimmering  shades,  and  sympathetic  glooms  ' 
Where  the  dun  umbrage  o’er  the  falling  stream, 
Romantic,  hangs ; there  through  the  pensive  dusk 
Strays,  in  heart-thrilling  meditation  lost, 
Indulging  all  to  love  : Or  on  the  bank 
Thrown,  amid  drooping  lilies,  swells  the  breeze 
With  sighs  unceasing,  and  the  brook  with  tears. 

Thus  in  soft  anguish  he  consumes  the  day. 

Nor  quits  his  deep  retirement,  till  the  Moon 
Peeps  through  the  chambers  of  the  fleecy  east, 
Enlightened  by  degrees,  and  in  her  train 
Leads  on  the  gentle  hours  ; then  forth  he  walks 
Beneath  the  trembling  languish  of  her  beam. 

With  soften’d  soul,  and  woos  the  bird  of  eve 
To  mingle  woes  with  his : « r,  while  the  world 
And  all  the  sons  of  Care  lie  hush’d  in  sleep, 
Associates  with  the  midnight  shadows  drear ; 

And,  sighing  to  the  lonely  taper,  pours 
His  idly  tortur’d  heart  into  the  page. 

Meant  for  the  moving  messenger  of  love  ; 

Where  rapture  burns  on  rapture,  every  line 


SPRING. 


63 


With  rising  frenzy  fir’d.  But  if  an  bed 
Delirious  flung,  sleep  from  his  pillow  flies 
All  night  he  tosses,  nor  the  balmy  power 
In  any  posture  finds  ; till  the  gray  Morn 
Lifts  her  pale  lustre  on  the  paler  wretch. 
Exanimate  by  love  ; and  then  perhaps 
Exhausted  Nature  sinks  awhile  to  rest , 

Still  interrupted  by  distracted  dreams, 

That  o’er  the  sick  imagination  rise. 

And  in  black  colours  paint  the  mimic  scene. 

Oft  with  the  enchantress  of  his  soul  he  talks 
Sometimes  in  crowds  distress’d ; or  if  retir’d 
To  secret  winding  flower-enwoven  bowers. 

Far  from  the  dull  impertinence  of  Man  ; 

Just  as  he,  credulous,  his  endless  cares 
Begins  to  lose  in  blind  oblivious  love, 

Snatch’d  from  her  yielded  hand,  he  knows  not  how 
Through  forests  huge,  and  long  untravell’d  heaths 
With  desolation  brown,  he  wanders  waste, 

In  night  and  tempest  wrapt ; or  shrinks  aghast. 
Back,  from  the  bending  precipice  ; or  wades 
The  turbid  stream  below,  and  strives  to  reach 
The  further  shore ; where  succourless  and  sad. 

She  w ith  extended  arms  his  aid  implores  ; 

But  strives  in  vain : borne  by  th’  outrageous  flood 
To  distance  down,  he  rides  the  ridgy  wave. 

Or  whelm’d  beneath  the  boiling  eddv  sinks. 

These  are  the  charming  agonies  of  love, 

Whose  misery  delights.  But  though  the  heart 
Shouldjealousy  its  venom  once  diffuse, 

’ i is  then  delightful  miserv  no  more  ; 


64 


SPRING. 


But  agony  unmix’d,  incessant  gall, 

Corroding  every  thought,  and  blasting  all 
Love’s  paradise.  Ye  fairy  prospects  then 
Ye  beds  of  roses,  and  ye  bowers  of  joy, 

Farewell ! ye  gleamings  of  departed  peace, 

Shine  out  your  last ! the  yellow-tinging  plague 
internal  vision  taints,  and  in  a night 
Of  livid  gloom  imagination  wraps. 

Ah  then,  instead  of  love-enliven’d  cheeks, 

Of  sunny  features,  and  of  ardent  eve«5 

With  flowing  rapture  bright,  dark  looks  succeed, 

Suffus’d  and  glaring  with  untender  Are  ; 

A clouded  aspect  and  a burning  clieek, 

Where  the  whole  poison’d  soul  malignant  sits. 

And  frightens  love  away.  Ten  thousand  fears 
Invented  wild,  ten  thousand  frantic  views 
Of  horrid  rivals,  hanging  on  the  charms 
For  which  he  melts  in  fondness,  eat  him  up 
With  fervent  anguish,  and  consuming  rage. 

In  vain  reproaches  lend  their  idle  aid, 

Deceitful  pride,  and  resolution  frail, 

Giving  false  peace  a moment.  Fancy  pours, 
Afresh  her  beauties  on  his  busy  thought, 

Her  first  endearments  twining  round  the  soul, 

With  all  the  witchcraft  of  ensnaring  love. 

Straight  the  fierce  storm  involves  his  mind  anew  , 
Flames  through  the  nerves, and  boils  along  the  veins 
While  anxious  doubt  distracts  the  tortur’d  heart : 
For  e’en  the  sad  assurance  of  his  fears 
Were  ease  to  w'hat  he  feels.  Thus  the  warm  youth 
Whom  love  deludes  into  his  thorny  wilds, 


SPRING. 


o5 

llirough  flowery-temptirig  paths,  or  leads  a life 
Of  fever’d  rapture,  or  of  cruel  care  ; 

His  brightest  flames  extinguish’d  all,  and  all 
His  lively  moments  running  down  to  waste. 

But  happy  they ! the  happiest  of  their  kind  ! 
Whom  gentler  stars  unite  ; and  in  one  fate 
Their  hearts,  their  fortunes,  and  their  being  blend. 
’Tis  not  the  coarser  tie  of  human  laws, 

Unnatural  oft,  and  foreign  to  the  mind. 

That  binds  their  peace,  but  harmony  itself, 

Attuning  all  their  passions  into  love  ; 

Where  friendship  full  exerts  her  softest  power. 
Perfect  esteem  enlivened  by  desire 
Ineffable,  and  sympathy  of  soul ; 

Thought  meeting  thought,  and  will  preventing  will, 
With  boundless  confidence  : For  nought  but  love 
Can  answer  love,  and  render  bliss  secure. 

Let  him,  ungenerous,  who,  alone  intent 
To  bless  himself,  from  sordid  parents  buys 
The  loathing  virgin,  in  eternal  care 
Well-merited,  consume  his  nights  and  days ; 

Let  barbarous  nations,  whose  inhuman  love 
Is  wild  desire,  fierce  as  the  suns  they  feel ; 

Let  eastern  tyrants  from  the  light  of  heaven 
Seclude  their  bosom-slaves,  meanly  possess’d 
Of  a mere  lifeless,  violated  form  ; 

While  those  whom  love  cements  in  holy  faith 
And  equal  transport,  free  as  Nature  live. 

Disdaining  fear.  What  is  the  world  to  them  ? 

Its  pomp,  its  pleasure,  and  its  nonsense  all, 

Who  in  each  other  clasp  whatever  fair 
5 F 2 


^ SPRING. 

Hig’h  fancy  forms,  and  lavish  hearts  can  wish  ; 
Something  than  beauty  dearer,  should  they  look 
Or  on  the  mind,  or  mind-illumin*d  face  ; 

Truth,  goodness,  honour,  harmony,  and  love, 
The  richest  bounty  of  indulgent  heaven  ? 
Meantime  a smiling  oifspring  rises  round. 

And  mingles  both  their  graces.  By  degrees, 
The  human  blossom  blows  ; and  every  day, 

Soft  as  it  rolls  along,  sliows  some  new  charm, 
The  father^s  lustre,  and  the  mother’s  bloom. 
Then  infant  reason  grows  apace,  and  calls 
For  the  kind  hand  of  an  assiduous  care. 

Delightful  task  ! to  rear  the  tender  thouglit. 
To  teach  the  young  idea  how  to  shoot. 

To  pour  the  fresh  instruction  o’er  the  mind, 

To  breathe  th’  enlivening  spirit,  and  to  fix 
1 he  generous  purpose  in  the  glov/ing  breast. 

Oh,  speak  the  joy  I ye,  whom  the  sudden  tear 
Surprises  often,  while  you  look  around. 

And  nothing  strikes  your  eye  but  sights  of  bliss, 
All  various  Nature  pressing  on  the  heart; 

An  elegant  sufficiency,  content, 

Retirement,  rural  quiet,  friendship,  books, 

Ease  and  alternate  labour,  useful  life, 
Progressive  virtue,  and  approving  Heaven  ! 

These  are  the  matchless  joys  of  virtuous  love  ; 
And  thus  their  moments  fly.  The  Seasons  thus, 
As  ceaseless  round  a jarring  world  they  roll. 
Still  find  them  happy  ; and  consenting  Spring 
Sheds  her  own  rosy  garland  on  their  heads  : 

Till  evening  comes  at  last,  serene  and  mild  * 


SPRING. 


When  after  the  long  vernal  day  of  life, 
Enamour’d  more,  as  more  remembrance  swells 
With  many  a proof  of  recollected  love, 
Togetiier  down  they  sink  in  social  sleep  ; 
Together  freed,  their  gentle  spirits  fly 
To  scenes  where  love  and  bliss  inonortal  reig® 


the  seasons. 


SUMMER- 


THE  ARGUMENT, 


The  subject  proposed.  Invocation.  Addrei^  to  Mr 
Dodington.  An  introductory  reflection  on  the  mo- 
tion of  the  heavenly  bodies  : whence  the  succession  oj 
the  seasons.  As  the  face  of  JVature  in  this  season  is 
almost  uniform j the  progress  of  the  poem  is  a de- 
scription of  a summer's  day.  The  daum.  Sun- 
rising. Hymn  to  the  sun.  Forenoon.  Summer 
insects  described.  Hay-making.  Sheep-shearing. 
JVoon-day.  A woodland  retreat.  Group  of  herds 
and  flocks.  A solemn  grove  : how  it  affects  a con- 
templative mind.  A cataract^  and  rude  scene. 
View  of  Summer  in  the  torrid  zone.  Stoi'm  of 
thunder  and  lightning.  A tale.  The  storm  over, 
n serene  afternoon.  Bathing.  Hour  of  walking. 
Transition  to  the  prospect  of  a rich,  well-cultivated 
country ; which  introduces  a panegyric  on  Great 
Britain.  Sunset.  Evening.  JVight.  Summe? 
meteors.  A comet.  The  whole  concluding  with 
the  praise  of  philosophy. 


SUMMER 


Jb  ROM  brightening  fields  of  ether  fair  disclos’d, 
Child  of  the  Sun,  refulgent  Summer  comes, 
hi  pride  of  youth,  and  felt  through  Nature’s  deptfc 
He  comes  attended  by  the  sultry  hours, 

And  ever-fanning  breezes,  on  his  way  ; 

While,  from  his  ardent  look,  the  turning  Spring 
Averts  her  blushful  face  ; and  earth,  and  skies, 
^ll-smiling,  to  his  hot  dominion  leaves. 

Hence  let  me  haste  into  the  mid-wood  shade, 
Where  scarce  a sun-beam  wanders  through  the  glooiv 
And  on  the  dark-green  grass,  beside  the  brink 
Of  haunted  stream,  that  by  the  roots  of  oak 
Rolls  o’er  the  rocky  channel,  lie  at  large, 

And  sing  the  glories  of  the  circling  year. 

Come,  Inrpiration  ! from  thy  herrnit-seat, 

By  mortal  seldom  found  • may  fancy  dare, 

From  thy  fix’d  serious  eye,  and  raptur’d  glance 
Shot  on  surrounding  heaven,  to  steal  one  look 
Creative  of  the  Poet,  every  power 
Exalting  to  an  ecstacy  of  soul. 

And  thou,  my  youthful  Muse’s  early  friend, 

In  whom  the  human  graces  all  unite  : 

Pure  light  of  mind,  and  tenderness  of  heart ; 
Genius,  and  wisdom ; the  gay  social  sense, 


72 


SUMMER. 


By  decency  chastis’d  ; goodness  and  wit, 

In  seldom  meeting'  harmony  combin’d ; 

U.iblemish’d  honour,  and  an  active  zeal 
For  Britain’s  glory,  Liberty,  and  Man . 

O Dodington  ! attend  my  rural  song-, 
to  my  theme,  inspirit  every  line, 

And  teach  me  to  deserve  thy  just  applause. 

With  what  an  awful  world-revolving- power 
^Vere  first  the  unwieldy  planets  launch’d  along 
i'll’  illimitable  void  ! Thus  to  remain. 

Amid  the  flux  of  many  thousand  years, 
i'hat  oft  has  swept  the  toiling  race  of  men, 

And  all  their  labour’d  monuments,  away, 

Firm,  unremitting,  matchless,  in  their  course  ; 

To  the  kind  temper’d  change  of  night  and  day, 

And  of  the  seasons  ever  stealing  round. 

Minutely  faithful : such  th’  All-perfect  Hand . 

That  pois’d,  impels,  and  rules  the  steady  whole. 

When  now  no  more  th’  alternate  Twins  are  fir’d, 
And  Cancer  reddens  with  the  solar  blaze, 
r^^hort  is  the  doubtful  empire  of  the  night ; 

And  soon  observant  of  approaching  day. 

The  meek-ey’d  Morn  appears,  mother  of  dews. 

At  first  faint  gleaming  in  the  dappled  east : 

Till  far  o'er  ether  spreads  the  widening  glow ; 

And,  from  before  the  lustre  of  her  face, 

AVliite  break  the  clouds  away.  With  quicken’d  step, 
Brown  Night  retires  : young  Day  pours  in  apace 
And  opens  all  the  lawny  prospect  wide. 

The  dripping  rock,  the  mountain’s  misty  top 
Swell  on  the  sight,  and  brighten  with  the  daw  n. 


73 


Blue,  through  the  dusk,  the  smoking  currents  shine ; 
And  from  the  bladed  field  the  fearful  hare 
Limps,  awkward : while  along  the  forest-glade 
The  wild  deer  trip,  and  often  turning  gaze 
At  early  passenger.  Music  awakes 
The  native  voice  of  undissembled  joy  ; 

And  thick  around  the  woodland  hymns  arise. 
Roused  by  the  cock,  the  soon-clad  shepherd  leaves 
His  mossy  cottage,  where  with  Peace  he  dwells ; 
And  from  the  crowded  fold,  in  order,  drives 
His  flock,  to  taste  the  verdure  of  the  morn. 

F alsely  luxurious  ! will  not  man  awake  ; 

And,  springing  from  the  bed  of  sloth,  enjoy 
The  cool,  the  fragrant,  and  the  silent  hour, 

To  meditation  due  and  sacred  song  ? 

f For  is  there  aught  in  sleep  can  charm  the  wise  ? 

To  lie  in  dead  oblivion,  losing  half 
The  fleeting  moments  of  too  short  a life ; 

Total  extinction  of  the  enlighten’d  soul ! 

Or  else  to  feverish  vanity  alive, 

Wilder’d,  and  tossing  through  distemper’d  dreams  ^ 
Who  wouW  in  such  a gloomy  state  remain 
Longer  than  nature  craves ; when  every  Muse 
And  every  blooming  pleasure  wait  without. 

To  bless  the  wildly  devious  morning  walk  ? 

But  yonder  comes  the  powerful  King  of  day, 
Rejoicing  in  the  east.  The  lessening  cloud, 

iThe  kindling  azure,  and  the  mountains  brow 
Illum’d  with  fluid  gold,  his  near  approach 
Betoken  glad.  Lo  ! now,  apparent  ail, 

/ Aslant  the  devv-bright  earth,  and  colour’d  air. 


74 


SUMMER. 


He  looks  in  boundless  majesty  abroad ; 

And  sheds  the  sinning-  day,  that  burnish’d  plays 
On  rocks  and  hills,  and  to\v’rs,and  wand’ring  streams, 
High  gleaming  from  afar.  Prime  cheerer,  Light ! 
Of  all  material  beings  first,  and  best  I 
Efflux  divine  ! Nature’s  resplendent  robe  ! 

Without  whose  vesting  beauty  all  were  wrapt 
In  unessential  gloom  ; and  thou,  0 Sun  ! 

Soul  of  surrounding  worlds  ! in  whom  best  seen 
Shines  out  thy  Maker  ? may  I sing  of  thee  ? 

’Tis  by  thy  secret,  strong,  attractive  force. 

As  with  a chaid  indissoluble  bound. 

Thy  system  rolls  entire  : from  the  far  bourne 
Of  utmost  Saturn,  wheeling  wide  his  round 
Of  thirty  years  ; to  Mercury,  whose  disk 
Can  scarce  be  caught  by  philosophic  eye, 

Lost  in  the  near  effulgence  of  thy  blaze. 

Informer  of  the  planetary  train  ! 

Without  whose  quick’ning  glance  their  cumbrous  orbs 
Were  brute  unlovely  mass,  inert  and  dead. 

And  not,  as  now,  the  green  abodes  of  life. 

How  many  forms  of  being  wait  on  thee,  % 

Inhaling  spirit ! from  the  unfetter’d  mind. 

By  thee  sublim’d,  down  to  the  daily  race. 

The  mixing  myriads  of  thy  setting  beam. 

The  vegetable  world  is  also  thine. 

Parent  of  Seasons  ‘ who  the  pomp  precede 
That  waits  thy  throne,  as  through  thy  vast  domain, 
Annual,  along  the  bright  ecliptic  road. 

In  world-rejoicing  state,  it  moves  sublime. 
r4eantime  th’  expecting  nations,  circled  gay 


SUMMER. 


75 


With  all  the  various  tribes  of  foodful  earth, 

Implore  thy  bounty,  or  send  grateful  up 
A common  hymn ; while,  round  thy  beaming  car, 
High-seen,  the  Seasons  lead,  in  sprightly  dance 
Harmonious  knit,  the  rosy-finger’d  Hours; 

The  Zephyrs  floating  loose  ; the  timely  Rains  ; 

Of  bloom  ethereal  the  light-footed  Dews  ; 

And  soften’d  into  joy  the  surly  Storms. 

These,  in  successive  turn,  with  lavish  hand. 

Shower  every  beauty,  every  fragrance  shower. 
Herbs,  flowers,  and  fruits  ; till,  kindhng  at  thy  touch 
From  land  to  land  is  flush’d  the  vernal  year. 

Nor  to  the  surface  of  enliven’d  earth. 

Graceful  with  hills  and  dales,  and  leafy  woods, 

Her  liberal  tresses,  is  thy  force  confin’d  : 

But,  to  the  bowel’d  cavern  darting  deep. 

The  mineral  kinds  confess  thy  mighty  power. 
Effulgent,  hence  the  veiny  marble  shines  ; 

Hence  labour  draws  his  tools  ; hence  burnish’d  War 
Gleams  on  the  day  ; the  nobler  works  of  Peace 
Hence  bl^s  mankind  ; and  gen’rous  Commerce  binds 
The  round  of  nations  in  a golden  chain. 

Th’  unfruitful  rock  itself,  impregn’d  by  thee. 

In  dark  retirement  forms  the  lucid  stone. 

The  lively  diamond  drinks  thy  purest  rays. 

Collected  light,  compact ; that,  polish’d  bright, 

And  all  its  native  lustre  let  abroad. 

Dares,  as  it  sparkles  on  the  fair  one’s  breast, 

With  vain  ambition  emulate  her  eyes. 

At  thee  the  ruby  lights  its  deepening  glow, 

A.nd  with  a waving  radiance  inward  flames. 


76 


SUMMER. 


From  thee  the  sapphire,  solid  ether,  takes 
Its  hue  cerulean  ; and,  of  evening  tinct. 

The  purple-streaming  amethyst  is  thiiie. 

With  thy  own  smile  the  yellow  topaz  burns. 

Nor  deeper  verdure  dyes  the  robe  of  Spring, 
When  first  she  gives  it  to  the  southern  gale. 

Than  the  green  emerald  shows.  But,  all  combin’ 
Thick  through  the  whitening  opal  play  thy  beams 
Or,  flying  several  from  its  surface,  form 
A trembling  variance  of  revolving  hues, 

As  the  site  varies  in  the  gazer’s  hand. 

The  very  dead  creation,  from  thy  touch. 
Assumes  a mimic  life.  By  thee  refin’d. 

In  brighter  mazes  the  relucent  stream 
Plays  o’er  the  mead.  The  precipice  abrupt, 
Projecting  horror  on  the  blacken’d  flood. 

Softens  at  thy  return.  The  desert  joys, 

Wildly,  through  all  his  melancholy  bounds. 

Rude  ruins  glitter  ; and  the  briny  deep, 

Sfe>en  from  some  pointed  promontory’s  top, 

F»r  to  the  blue  horizon’s  utmost  verge. 

Restless,  reflects  a floating  gleam.  But  this, 

And  all  the  much-transported  Muse  can  sing, 

Are  I ) thy  beauty,  dignity,  and  use, 

Uneqi  al  far ; great  delegated  source 
Of  light,  and  life,  and  grace,  and  joy  below  ! 

How  shall  I then  attempt  to  sing  of  Hiivi  ’ 

Who,  Light  Himself,  in  uncreated  light 
Invested  deep,  dwells  awfully  retir’d 
From  mortal  eye,  or  angel’s  purer  ken  ; 

Whose  single  smile  has,  from  the  fit  st  of  time, 


SUMMER. 


77 


Fill’d,  overflowing,  all  those  lamps  of  heaven 
That  beam  for  ever  through  the  boundless  sky : 

But,  should  h€^  hide  his  face,  th’  astonish’d  sun, 

And  all  the  extinguish’d  stars,  would  loosening  reel 
Wide  from  their  spheres,  and  Chaos  come  again. 

And  yet  was  every  faltering  tongue  of  Man, 
Almighty  Father  ! silent  in  thy  praise ; 

Thy  Works  themselves  would  raise  a general  voice, 
E’en  in  the  depth  of  solitary  woods 
By  human  foot  untrod  ; proclaim  thy  power. 

And  to  the  choir  celestial  Thee  resound, 

Th’  eternal  cause,  support,  and  end  of  all ! 

To  me  be  Nature’s  volume  broad-display’d  ; 

And  to  peruse  its  all-instructing  page, 

Or,  haply  catching  inspiration  thence. 

Some  easy  passage,  raptur’d  to  translate. 

My  sole  delight ; as  through  the  falling  glooms 
Pensive  I stray,  or  with  the  rising  dawn 
On  fancy’s  eagle-wing  excursive  soar. 

Now,  flaming  up  the  heavens,  the  potent  sun 
Melts  into  limpid  air  the  high-rais’d  clouds. 

And  morning  fogs,  that  hover’d  round  the  hills 
In  party  coloured  bands  ; till  wide  unveil’d 
The  face  of  Nature  shines,  from  where  earth  seems, 
Far  stretch’d  around,  to  meet  the  bending  sphere. 

Half  in  a blush  of  clustering  roses  lost. 
Dew-dropping  Coolness  to  the  shade  retires  ; 
There,  on  the  verdant  turf,  or  flowery  bed. 

By  gelid  founts  and  careless  rills  to  muse  ; 

W ljile  tyrant  Heat,  dispreading  through  the  sky, 

G 2 


78 


SUMMER. 


With  rapid  sway,  his  burning-  influence  darts 
On  man,  and  beast,  and  herb,  and  tepid  stream. 

Who  can  unpitying  see  the  flowery  race, 

Shed  by  the  morn,  their  new-flushed  bloom  resign, 
Before  the  parching  beam  ? so  fade  the  fair. 

When  fevers  revel  through  their  azure  veins. 

But  one,  the  lofty  follower  of  the  sun. 

Sad  when  he  sets,  shuts  up  her  yellow  leaves, 
Drooping  all  night ; and,  when  he  warm  returns, 
Points  her  enamour’d  bosom  to  his  ray. 

Home  from  his  morning  task  the  swain  retreats 
His  flock  before  him  stepping  to  the  fold  : 

While  the  full-udder’d  mother  lows  around 
The  cheerful  cottage,  then  expecting  food, 

The  food  of  innocence  and  health  ! The  daw. 
The  rook,  and  magpie,  to  the  gray-grown  oaks 
That  the  calm  village  in  their  verdant  arras, 
Sheltering,  embrace,  direct  their  lazy  flight ; 
Where  on  the  mingling  boughs  they  sit  embower’d, 
All  the  hot  noon,  till  cooler  hours  arise. 

Faint,  underneath,  the  household  fowls  convene  ; 
And,  in  a corner  of  the  buzzing  shade, 

The  house-dog,  with  the  vacant  grayhound,  lies, 
Outstretch’d  and  sleepy.  In  his  slumbers  one 
Attacks  the  nightly  thief,  and  one  exults 
O’er  hill  and  dale;  till,  waken’d  by  the  wasp, 

They  starting  snap.  Nor  shall  the  Muse  disdain 

To  let  the  little  noisy  summer-race 

Live  in  her  lay,  and  flutter  through  her  song : 

Not  mean  though  simple  ; to  the  sun  ally’d, 

From  him  they  draw'  their  animating  fire. 


SUMMER. 


70 


Wak’d  by  his  warmer  ray,  the  reptile  young 
Come  wing’d  abroad  ; by  the  light  air  upborne, 
Lighter,  and  full  of  soul.  From  every  chink, 

And  secret  corner,  where  they  slept  away 
The  wintry  storms ; or  rising  from  their  tombs, 

To  higher  life  ; by  myriads,  forth  at  once, 

Swarming  they  pour ; of  all  the  varied  lines 
Their  beauty-beaming  parent  can  disclose. 

Ten  thousand  forms,  ten  thousahd  different  tribes. 
People  the  blaze.  To  sunny  waters  some 
By  fatal  instinct  fly  : where  on  the  pool 
They,  sportive,  wheel;  or,  sailing  down  the  stream, 
Are  snatch’d  immediate  by  the  quick-ey’d  trout. 

Or  darting  salmon.  Through  the  green-wood  glade 
Some  love  to  stray  ; there  lodg’d,  amus’d,  and  fed. 
In  the  fresh  leaf.  Luxurious,  others  make 
The  meads  their  choice,  and  visit  every  flower, 

And  every  latent  herb  : for  the  sweet  task. 

To  propagate  their  kinds,  and  where  to  wrap. 

In  what  soft  beds,  their  young  yet  undisclos’d, 
Employs  their  tender  care.  Some  to  the  house, 

The  fold,  and  dairy,  hungry,  bend  their  flight ; 

Sip  round  the  pail,  or  taste  the  curdling  cheese  : 

Oft,  inadvertent,  from  the  milky  stream 
They  meet  their  fate  ; or,  weltering  in  the  bowl, 

With  powerless  wings  around  them  wrapt,  ex[)ire. 

But  chief  to  heedless  flies  the  window  proves 
A constant  death  ; where,  gloomily  retir’d. 

The  villain  spider  lives,  cunning,  and  fierce, 

Rlixture  abhorr’d ! amid  a mangled  heap 
Of  carcasses,  in  eager  watch  he  sits, 


80 


SUMMER, 


O’erlooking  all  his  waving  snares  around. 

Near  the  dire  cell  the  dreadless  wanderer  oft 
Passes,  as  oft  the  ruffian  shows  his  front ; 

The  prey  at  last  ensnar’d,  he  dreadful  darts, 

With  rapid  glide,  along  the  leaning  line  ; 

And,  fixing  in  the  wretch  his  cruel  fangs. 

Strikes  backward  grimly  pleas’d ; the  fluttering  wing, 
And  shriller  sound,  declare  extreme  distress. 

And  ask  the  helping  hospitable  hand. 

Resounds  the  living  surface  of  the  ground : 

Nor  undelightful  is  the  ceaseless  hum. 

To  him  who  muses  through  the  woods  at  noon ; 

Or  drowsy  shepherd,  as  he  lies  reclin’d, 

With  half- shut  eyes  beneath,  the  floating  shade 
Of  willows  gray,  close-crowding  o’er  the  brook. 

Gradual,  from  these  what  numerous  kinds  descend 
Evading  e’en  the  microscopic  eye  ! 

Full  nature  swarms  with  life  ; one  wondrous  mass 
Of  animals,  or  atoms  organized, 

Waiting  the  vital  breath,  when  parent  Heaven 
Shall  bid  his  spirit  blow.  The  hoary  fen, 

In  putrid  streams,  emits  the  living  cloud 
Of  pestilence.  Through  subterranean  cells. 

Where  searching  sunbeams  scarce  can  find  a way, 
Earth  animated  heaves.  The  flowery  leaf 
Wants  not  its  soft  inhabitants.  Secure, 

Within  its  winding  citadel,  the  stone 

Holds  multitudes.  But  chief  the  forest  boughs, 

That  dance  unnumber’d  to  the  playful  breeze  ; 

The  downy  orchard,  and  the  melting  pulp 
Of  mellow  fruit,  the  nameless  nations  feed 


SUMMER. 


81 


Of  evanescent  insects.  Where  the  pool 
Stands  mantled  o’er  with  green,  invisible, 

Amid  the  floating  verdure  millions  stray. 

Each  liquid  too,  whether  it  pierces,  soothes, 
Inflames,  refreshes,  or  exalts  the  taste. 

With  various  forms  abounds.  Nor  is  the  stream 
Of  purest  crystal,  nor  the  lucid  air, 

Though  one  transparent  vacancy  it  seems. 

Void  of  their  unseen  people.  These,  conceal’d 
By  the  kind  art  of  forming  Heaven,  escape 
The  grosser  eye  of  man  : for,  if  the  worlds 
In  worlds  enclos’d  should  on  his  senses  burst, 
From  cates  ambrosial,  and  the  nectar’d  bowl, 

He  would  abhorrent  turn  ; and  in  dead  night. 
When  silence  sleeps  o’er  all,  be  stunn’d  with  noise. 

Let  no  presuming  impious  railer  tax 
Creative  Wisdom,  as  if  aught  were  form’d 
In  vain,  or  not  for  admirable  ends. 

Shall  little  haughty  Ignorance  pronounce 
His  works  unwise,  of  which  the  smallest  part 
Exceeds  the  narrow  vision  of  her  mind.^ 

As  if  upon  a full-proportion’d  dome. 

On  swelling  columns  heav’d,  the  pride  of  art ! 

A critic-fly,  whose  feeble  ray  scarce  spreads 
An  inch  around,  with  blind  presumption  bold. 
Should  dare  to  tax  the  structure  of  the  whole ! 

And  lives  the  Man,  whose  universal  eye 

Has  swept  at  once  th’  unbounded  scheme  of  thing* 

Mark’d  their  dependence  so,  and  firm  accord, 

As  with  unfaltering  accent  to  conclude 
That  this  availeth  naught ! Has  any  seen 
6 


SUMMER. 


S2 

The  mighty  chain  of  beings,  lessening  down 
From  Infinite  Perfection  to  the  brink 
Of  dreary  nothing,  desolate  abyss ! 

From  which  astonish’d  thought,  recoiling,  turns  ? 
Till  then  alone  let  zealous  praise  ascend. 

And  hymns  of  holy  wonder,  to  that  Power, 

Whose  wisdom  shines  as  lovely  on  our  minds. 

As  on  our  smiling  eyes  his  servant  sun. 

Thick  in  yon  stream  of  light  a thousand  ways, 
Upward,  and  downward,  thwarting,  and  convolv’d, 
The  quivering  nations  sport ; till,  tempest-wing’d, 
Fierce  Winter  sw^eeps  them  from  the  face  of  day. 
E’en  so  luxurious  men,  unheeding,  pass 
An  idle  summer  life  in  fortune’s  shine, 

A season’s  glitter!  Thus  they  flutter  on 
From  toy  to  toy,  from  vanity  to  vice ; 

Till,  blown  away  by  death,  oblivion  comes 
Behind,  and  strikes  them  from  the  book  of  life. 

Now  swarms  the  village  o’er  the  jovial  mead 
The  rustic  youth,  brown  with  meridian  toil, 
Healthful  and  strong  ; full  as  the  summer-rose 
Blown  by  prevailing  suns,  the  ruddy  maid, 

Half  naked,  swelling  on  the  sight,  and  all 
Her  kindled  graces  burning  o’er  her  cheek. 

E'en  stooping  age  is  here  ; and  infant  hands 
Trail  the  long  rake,  or,  with  the  fragrant  loeid 
O’ercharg’d,  amid  the  kind  oppression  roll. 

Wide  flies  the  tedded  grain  ; all  in  a row 
Advancing  broad,  or  wheeling  round  the  field, 
They  spread  their  breathing  harvest  to  the  sun, 
That  throws  refreshful  round  a rural  smell 


SUMMER, 


S3 


Or,  as  they  rake  the  green-appearhig^  ground, 

And  drive  the  dusky  wave  along  the  mead, 

The  russet  hay-cock  rises  thick  behind, 

In  order  gay.  While  heard  from  dale  to  dale. 
Waking  the  breeze,  resounds  the  blended  voice 
Of  happy  labour,  love,  and  social  glee. 

Or  rushing  thence,  in  one  diffusive  band 
They  drive  the  troubled  flocks,  by  many  a dog 
Compeird,to  where  the  mazy-running  brook 
Forms  a deep  pool ; this  bank  abrupt  and  high, 

And  that  fair-spreading  in  a pebbled  shore. 

Urg’d  to  the  giddy  brink,  much  is  the  toil. 

The  clamour  much,  of  men,  and  boys,  and  dogs. 

Ere  the  soft  fearful  people  to  the  flood 
Commit  their  woolly  sides.  And  oft  the  swain. 

Oil  some  impatient  seizing,  hurls  them  in  : 
Embolden’d  then,  nor  hesitating  more, 

Fast,  fast,  they  plunge  amid  the  flashing  wave, 

And  panting  labour  to  the  furthest  shore. 

Repeated  this,  till  deep  the  well-wash’d  fleece 
Has  drunk  the  flood,  and  from  his  lively  haunt 
The  trout  is  banish’d  by  the  sordid  stream  ; 

Heavy,  and  dripping,  to  the  breezy  brow 

Slow  move  the  harmless  race  j where,  as  they  spread 

Their  swelling  treasures  to  the  sunny  ray. 

Inly  disturb’d,  and  wondering  what  this  wild 
Outrageous  tumult  means,  their  loud  complaints 
The  countr}"  fill ; and,  toss’d  from  rock  to  rock. 
Incessant  bl  eatings  run  around  the  hills. 

At  last,  of  snowy  white,  the  gather’d  flocks 
Are  in  the  wattled  pen  innumerous  press’d, 


SUMMER, 


SA 

Head  above  head : and  rang’d  in  lusty  rows 
The  shepherds  sit,  and  whet  the  sounding  shears. 
The  housewife  waits  to  roll  her  fleecy  stores, 

With  all  her  gay  drest  maids  attending  round. 

One,  chief,  in  gracious  dignity  enthron'd, 

Shines  o’er  the  rest,  the  pastoral  queen,  and  rays 
Her  smiles,  sweet-beaming,  on  her  shepherd-king  , 
While  the  glad  circle  round  them  yield  their  souls 
To  festive  mirth,  and  wit  that  knows  no  gall. 
Meantime,  their  joyous  task  goes  on  apace  : 

Some  mingling  stir  the  melted  tar,  and  some, 

Deep  on  the  new-shorn  vagrant’s  heaving  side, 

To  stamp  his  master  s cipher  ready  stand  ; 

Others  th’  unwilling  wether  drag  along  ; 

And,  glorying  in  his  might,  the  sturdy  boy 
Holds  by  the  twisted  horns  th’  indignant  ram. 
Behold  where  bound,  and  of  its  robe  bereft, 

By  needy  Man,  that  all-depending  lord, 

How  meek,  how  patient,  the  mild  creature  lies  ' 
What  softness  in  its  melancholy  face. 

What  dumb  complaining  innocence  appears  ! 

Fear  not,  ye  gentle  tribes,  ’tis  not  the  knife 
Of  horrid  slaughter  that  is  o’er  you  wav’d  > 

No,  'tis  the  tender  swain’s  well-guided  shears. 

Who  having  now,  to  pay  his  annual  care. 

Borrow’d  your  fleece,  to  you  a cumbrous  load, 

Will  send  you  bounding  to  your  hills  again. 

A simple  scene!  yet  hence  Britannia  sees 
Her  solid  grandeur  rise  : hence  she  commands 
Th’  exalted  stores  of  every  brighter  clime, 

Tlie  treasures  of  the  Sun  without  his  rage  ; 


SUMMER. 


85 


Heiice,  fervent  all,  with  culture,  toil,  and  arts, 

Wide  g-lows  her  land:  her  dreadful  thunder  hence 
Rides  o’er  the  waves  sublime ; and  now,  e’en  now, 
Impending’  hangs  o’er  Gallia’s  humbled  coast ; 
Hence  rules  the  circling  deep,  and  awes  the  woild. 

’Tis  raging  noon ; and,  vertical,  the  sun 
Darts  on  the  head  direct  his  forceful  rays. 

O’ci  heaven  and  earth,  far  as  the  ranging  eye 
Can  sweep,  a dazzling  deluge  reigns ; and  all 
FrOiO  pole  to  pole  is  undistinguish’d  blaze, 
hi  vain  the  sight,  dejected  to  the  ground. 

Stoops  for  relief}  thence  hot-ascending  steams 
And  keen  reflection  pain.  Deep  to  the  root 
Of  vegetation  parch’d,  the  cleaving  fields 
Avid  slippery  lawn  an  arid  hue  disclose  } 

Kiast  Fancy’s  bloom,  and  wither  e’en  the  soul. 
Echo  no  more  returns  the  cheerful  sound 
Of  sharpening  scythe  : the  mower  sinking  heaps 
O’er  him  the  humid  hay,  with  flowers  perfum’d  ; 
And  scarce  a chirping  grasshopper  is  heard 
Through  the  dumb  mead.  Distressful  nature  pants 
The  very  streams  look  languid  from  afar; 

Or,  through  tli’  unshelter’d  glade,  impatient,  seem 
To  hurl  into  the  covert  of  the  grove. 

All-conquering  Heat!  oh,  intermit  thy  wratli ; 
And  on  my  throbbing  temples  potent  thus 
Beam  not  so  fierce!  incessant  still  you  flow, 

And  still  another  fervent  flood  succeeds, 
i*oiir'd  on  the  head  profuse.  In  vain  I sigh, 

And  restless  turn,  and  look  around  for  night} 

Mght  is  far  off}  and  hotter  hours  approach. 

H 


SUMMER. 


S(3 

Thric^  happy  he ! who  on  the  sunless  side 
Of  a romantic  mountain,  forest-crowii’d, 

Beneath  the  whole  collected  shade  reclines ; 

Or  in  the  gelid  caverns,  woodbine-wrought, 

And  fresh  bedew’d  with  ever-spouting  streams, 

Sits  coolly  calm  ; while  all  the  world  without, 
Unsatisfied,  and  sick,  tosses  in  noon. 

Emblem  instructive  of  the  virtuous  man, 

Who  keeps  his  temper’d  mind,  serene,  and  pure ; 
And  every  passion  aptly  harmoniz’d. 

Amid  a jarring  world  with  vice  inflam’d. 

Welcome,  ye  shades!  ye  bowery  thickets,  hail! 
Ye  lofty  pines  1 ye  venerable  oaks! 

Ye  ashes  wild,  resounding  o’er  the  steep  ! 

Delicious  is  your  shelter  to  the  soul. 

As  to  the  hunted  hart  the  sallying  spring, 

Or  stream  full-flowing,  that  his  swelling  sides 
Laves,  as  he  floats  along  the  herbag’d  brink. 

Cool,  thro’  the  nerves,  your  pleasing  comfpri  glides ; 
The  heart  beats  glad  ; the  fresh-expanded  eye 
And  ear  resume  their  watch  ; the  sinews  knit ; 

And  life  shoots  swift  through  all  the  lighten’d  limbs. 

Around  th’  adjoining  brook,  that  purls  along 
The  vocal  grove,  now  fretting  o’er  a rock, 

Now  scarcely  moving  through  a reedy  pool, 

Now  starting  to  a sudden  stream,  and  now 
Gently  diffus’d  into  a limpid  plain  ; 

A various  group  the  herds  and  flocks  compose, 

Rural  confusion ! on  the  grassy  bank 

Some  ruminating  lie  ; while  others  stand 

Half  in  the  flood,  and  often  bending,  sip  , 


SUMMER. 


S7 


The  circling  surface.  In  the  middle  droops 
The  strong  laborious  ox,  of  honest  front, 

Which  incompos’d  he  shakes  ; and  from  his  sides 
'i'he  troublous  insects  lashes  with  his  tail, 

Returning  still.  Amid  his  subjects  safe. 

Slumbers  the  monarch-swain  ; his  careless  arm 
Thrown  round  his  head,  on  downy  moss  sustain’d  ; 
Here  laid  his  scrip,  with  wholesome  viands  fill’d ; 
There,  listening  every  noise,  his  watchful  dog. 

Light  fly  his  slumbers,  if  perchance  a flight 
Of  angry  gad-flies  fasten  on  the  herd ; 

That  startling  scatters  from  the  shallow  brook. 

In  search  of  lavish  stream.  Tossing  the  foam, 

They  scorn  the  keeper’s  voice,  and  scour  the  plain, 
Through  all  the  bright  severity  of  noon } 

While,  from  their  labouring  breasts,  a hollow  moan 
Proceeding,  runs  low-bellowing  round  the  hills. 

Oft  in  this  season  too  the  horse,  provok’d, 

While  his  big  sinews  full  of  spirits  swell ; 

Trembling  with  vigour,  in  the  heat  of  blood, 

Springs  the  high  fence  ; and,  o’er  the  field  efius’d. 
Darts  on  the  gloomy  flood,  with  steadfast  eye, 

\nd  heart  estrang’d  to  fear : his  nervous  chest. 
Luxuriant,  and  erect,  the  seat  of  strength, 

Bears  down  th’ opposing  stream:  quenchless  his  thirst; 
He  takes  the  river  at  redoubled  draughts  ; 

And  with  wide  nostrils,  snorting,  skims  the  wave. 

Still  let  me  pierce  into  the  midnight  depth 
Of  yonder  grove,  of  wildest,  largest  growth  ; 

That,  forming  high  in  air  a woodland  choir. 

Nods  o’er  the  mount  beneath.  At  every  step, 


SUMMER. 


•'SS 

Solemn,  and  slow,  the  shadows  blacker  fall, 

And  all  is  awfal  listening  gloom  around. 

These  are  the  haunts  of  Meditation,  these 
The  scenes  where  ancient  bards  th’  inspiring  breath, 
Ecstatic,  felt ; and,  from  this  world  retir’d 
Convers’d  with  angels,  and  immortal  forms. 

On  gracious  errands  bent : to  save  the  fall 
Of  virtue  struggling  on  the  brink  of  vice  ; 

In  waking  whispers,  and  repeated  dreams, 

To  hint  pure  thought,  and  warn  the  favour’d  so^l 
For  future  trials  fated  to  prepare; 

To  prompt  the  poet,  who  devoted  gives 
His  muse  to  better  themes  ; to  sooth  the  pangs 
Of  dying  worth,  and  from  the  patriot’s  breast 
(Backward  to  mingle  in  detested  war, 

But  foremost  when  engag’d)  to  turn  the  death 
And  numberless  such  offices  of  love, 

Dally,  and  nightly,  zealous  to  perform. 

Shook  sudden  from  the  bosom  of  the  sky 
A thousand  shapes  or  glide  athwart  the  dusk, 

Or  stalk  majestic  on.  Deep-rous’d,  I feel 
A sacred  terror,  a severe  delight, 

Creep  through  my  mortal  frame ; and  thus,  methinks, 
A voice,  than  human  more,  th’  abstracted  ear 
Of  fancy  strikes  : — ^‘Be  not  of  us  afraid, 

Poor  kindred  man  ! thy  fellow  creatures,  we 
From  the  same  Parent  Power  our  beings  drew-, 

The  same  our  Lord,  and  law^s,  and  great  pursuit. 
Once  some  of  us,  like  thee,  through  stormy  life, 
Toil’d  tempest-beaten,  ere  wx  could  attain 
This  holy  calm,  this  harmony  of  mind, 


SUMMER. 


Where  purity  and  peace  immingle  charms. 

Then  fear  not  us  ; but  with  responsive  song, 

Amid  these  dim  recesses,  undisturb’d 
By  noisy  folly  and  discordant  vice, 

Of  Nature  sing  with  us,  and  Nature’s  God. 

Here  frequent,  at  the  visionary  hour, 

When  musing  midnight  reigns,  or  silent  noon, 
Angelic  harps  are  in  full  concert  hetjrd. 

And  voices  chanting  from  the  wood-crown’d  hill, 
The  deepening  dale,  or  inmost  sylvan  glade  ; 

A privilege  bestow’d  by  us,  alone. 

On  Contemplation,  or  the  hallow’d  ear 
Of  poet,  swelling  to  seraphic  strain.” 

And  art  thou,  Stanley,*  of  that  sacred  band  ? 
Alas,  for  us  to  soon  ! though  rais’d  above 
The  reach  of  human  pain,  above  the  flight 
Of  human  joy ; yet,  with  a mingled  ray 
Of  sadly  pleas’d  remembrance,  must  thou  feel 
A mother’s  love,  a mother’s  tender  wo  : 

Who  seeks  thee  still,  in  many  a former  scene  ; 
vSeeks  thy  fair  form,  thy  lovely-beaming  eyes, 

Thy  pleasing  converse,  by  gay  lively  sense 
Inspir’d  : where  moral  wisdom  mildly  shone. 
Without  the  toil  of  art ; and  virtue  glow’d. 

In  all  her  smiles,  without  forbidding  pride. 

But,  O thou  best  of  parents ! wipe  thy  tears  ; 

Or  rather  to  Parental  Nature  pay 

tears  of  grateful  joy  ; who  for  a while 

* A youn^  lady j well  known  to  the  author,  loho  d%ed 
at  the  age  of  eighteen,  in  the  year  1738. 

H 2 


SUMMER. 


Lent  thee  this  younger  self,  this  opening  bloom 
Of  thy  enlightened  mind  and  gentle  worth. 

Believe  the  Muse  ; the  wintry  blast  of  death 
Kills  not  the  buds  of  virtue ; no,  they  spread. 
Beneath  the  heavenly  beam  ofbrighter  suns, 
Through  endless  ages,  into  higher  powers. 

Thus  up  the  mount,  in  airy  vision  wrapt, 

I stray,  regardless  whither  ; till  the  sound 
Of  a near  fall  of  water  every  sense  [back, 

Wakes  from  the  charm  ot  thought : swift-shrinking 
1 check  my  steps,  and  view  the  broken  scene. 

Smooth  to  the  shelving  brink  a copious  flood 
Rolls  fair,  and  placid ; where  collected  all. 

In  one  impetuous  torrent,  down  the  steep 
It  thundering  shoots,  and  shakes  the  country  round 
At  first,  an  azure  sheet,  it  rushes  broad  ; 

Then  whitening  by  degrees,  as  prone  it  falls, 

And  from  the  loud-resounding  rocks  below 
Dash’d  in  a cloud  of  foam,  it  sends  aloft 
A hoary  mist,  and  forms  a ceaseless  shower. 

Nor  can  the  tortur’d  wave  here  find  repose } 

But,  raging  still  amid  the  shaggy  rocks. 

Now  flashes  o’er  the  scatter’d  fragments,  now 
Aslant  the  hollow’d  channel  rapid  darts  ; 

And  falling  fast  from  gradual  slope  to  slope. 

With  wild  infracted  course,  and  lessen’d  roar, 

It  gains  a safer  bed  ; and  steals,  at  last. 

Along  the  mazes  of  the  quiet  vale. 

Invited  from  the  cliff,  to  whose  dark  brow 
He  clings,  the  steep-ascending  eagle  soars, 

\Vith  upward  pinions  through  the  flood  of  day  3 


SUMMER. 


And,  giving  full  his  bosom  to  the  blaze, 

Gains  on  the  sun  ; while  all  the  tuneful  race, 
Smit  by  th’  afflictive  noon,  disorder’d  droop, 
j Deep  in  the  thicket ; or,  from  bower  to  bower 
[ Responsive,  force  an  interrupted  strain. 

The  stock- dove  only  through  the  forest  coos, 
i Mournfully  hoarse ; oft  ceasing  from  his  plaint ; 
I Short  interval  of  weary  wo ! again 
: The  sad  idea  of  his  murder’d  mate. 

Struck  from  his  side  by  savage  fowler's  guile, 
Across  his  fancy  comes  ; and  then  resounds 
A louder  song  of  sorrow  through  the  grove. 

' Beside  the  de%vy  border  let  me  sit. 

All  in  the  freshness  of  the  humid  air : 

I There  in  that  hallow’d  rock,  grotesque  and  wild, 

I An  ample  chair  moss-lin’d,  and  over  head 
I By  flowering  umbrage  shaded  ; where  the  bee 
! Strays  diligent,  and  with  th’  extracted  balm 
I Of  fragrant  woodbine  loads  his  little  thigh. 

Now,  while  I taste  the  sweetness  of  the  shade, 

* While  Nature  lies  around  deep-lull’d  in  noon, 

! Now  come,  bold  Fancy,  spread  a daring  flight, 

I And  view  the  wonders  of  the  torrid  zone ; 

1 Climes  unrelenting ! with  whose  rage  compar’d, 

I Ton  blaze  is  feeble,  and  yon  skies  are  cool. 

See,  how  at  once  the  bright-efiulgent  sun, 

; Rising  direct,  swift  chases  from  the  sky 
■ The  short-liv’d  twilight ; and  with  ardent  blaze 
Looks  gaily  fierce  through  all  the  dazzling  air  ; 

He  mounts  his  throne  ; but  kind  before  him  sends, 

I Issuing  from  out  the  portals  of  the  morn. 


SUMMER. 


92 

The  g^enerai  breeze  to  mitigate  his  fire, 

And  breathe  refreshment  on  a fainting  world. 

Great  are  the  scenes,  with  dreadful  beauty  crown M 
And  barbarous  wealth,  that  see,  each  circling  year. 
Returning  Suns  and  double  seasons!  pass : 

Rocks  rich  in  gems,  and  mountains  big  with  mines, 
That  on  the  high  equator  ridgy  rise, 

AVhence  many  a bursting  stream  auriferous  plays , 
Majestic  woods,  of  every  vigorous  green, 

Stage  above  stage,  high  waving  o’er  the  hills  ; 

Or  to  the  far  horizon  wade  diffus’d, 

A boundless  deep  immensity  of  shade.  ^ 

Here  lofty  trees,  to  ancient  song  unknown,  ' 

The  noble  sons  of  potent  heat  and  floods,  * 

Prone-rushing  from  the  clouds,  rear  high  to  heaven 
Their  thorny  stems  ; and  broad  around  them  tlirow  ^ 
Meridian  gloom.  Here,  in  eternal  prime,  , 

Unnumber'd  fruits,  of  keen  delicious  taste 
And  vital  spirit,  drink  amid  the  cliffs,  ; 

And  burning  sands  that  bank  the  shrubby  vales,  : 
Redoubled  day ; yet  in  their  rugged  coats  * 

A friendly  juice  to  cool  its  rage  contain.  • 

* Which  blows  constantly  between  the  tropics  from  i 
the  east}  or  the  collateral  points^  the  north-east  and  south-  \ 
east ; caused  by  the  pressure  of  the  rarefied  air  on  that  , 
before  according  to  the  diurnal  mot  ion  of  the  sun  • 
from  east  to  west.  i 

f In  all  climates  between  the  tropiesy  the  sun^  as  j 
he  passes  and  repasses  in  his  annual  motioiiy  is  twice  a • 
year  vertical^  which  produces  this  effect. 

iJ 


SUMMER. 


93 


j Bear  me,  Pomona ! to  thy  citron  groves  ; 

To  where  the  lemon  and  the  piercing  lime, 

: With  the  deep  orange,  glowing  through  the  green, 
Their  lighter  glories  blend.  Lay  me  reclin’d 
Beneath  the  spreading  tamarind  that  shakes, 
f'ann’d  by  the  breeze,  its  fever-cooling  fruit. 

I Deep  in  the  night  the  massy  locust  sheds. 

Quench  my  hot  limbs  ; or  lead  me  through  the  maze. 
Embowering  endless,  of  the  Indian  fig ; 

Or  thrown  at  gayer  ease,  on  some  fair  brow. 

Let  me  behold,  by  breezy  murmurs  cool’d. 

Broad  o’er  my  head  the  verdant  cedar  wave. 

And  high  palmetos  lift  their  graceful  shade. 

,Oh,  stretch’d  amid  these  orchards  of  the  sun, 

Give  me  to  drain  the  cocoa’s  milky  bowl. 

And  from  the  palm  to  draw  its  freshening  wine  ! 

I More  bounteous  far  than  all  the  frantic  juice 
I Which  Bacchus  pours.  Nor,  on  its  slender  twigs 
' Low-bending,  be  the  full  pomegranate  scorn’d ; 

I Nor,  creeping  through  the  woods,  the  gelid  race 
1 Of  berries.  Oft  in  humble  station  dwells 
Unboastful  worth,  above  fastidious  pomp. 

Witness  thou  best  anana,  thou  the  pride 
Of  vegetable  life,  beyond  whate’er 
I The  poets  imag’d  in  the  golden  age ; 

Quick  let  me  strip  thee  of  thy  tufty  coat, 

Spread  thy  ambrosial  stores,  and  feast  with  Jove  ! 

! From  these  the  prospect  varies.  Plains  immense 
Lie  stretch’d  below,  interminable  meads. 

And  vast  savannahs,  where  the  wandering  eye, 
LTifixt,  is  in  a verdant  ocean  lost. 


SUMMER. 


D4 

Another  Flora  there,  of  bolder  hues, 

And  richer  sweets,  beyond  our  garden’s  pride, 

Plays  o’er  the  fields,  and  showers  with  sudden  hand 
Exuberant  spring  : for  oft  these  valleys  shift 
Their  green-embroider’d  robe  to  fiery  brown. 

And  swift  to  green  again,  as  scorching  suns. 

Or  streaming  dews  and  torrent  rains,  prevail. 

Along  these  lonely  regions,  where  retir’d 
From  little  scenes  of  art,  great  Nature  dwells 
In  awful  solitude,  and  nought  is  seen 
But  the  wild  herds  that  own  no  master’s  stall. 
Prodigious  rivers  roll  their  fattening  seas  : 

On  whose  luxuriant  herbage,  half-conceal’d, 

Like  a fall’n  cedar,  far  diffus’d  his  train. 

Cas’d  in  green  scales,  the  crocodile  extends. 

The  flood  disparts  : behold!  in  plaited  mail. 
Behemoth^  rears  his  head.  Glanc’d  from  his  side, 
The  darted  steel  in  idle  shivers  flies  : , 

He  fearless  walks  the  plain,  or  seeks  the  hills  ; 
Where,  as  he  crops  the  varied  fare,  the  herds. 

In  widening  circle  round,  forget  their  food, 

And  at  the  harmless  stranger  wondering  gaze. 

Peaceful,  beneath  primeval  trees,  that  cast 
Their  ample  shade  o’er  Niger’s  yellow  stream. 

And  where  the  Ganges  rolls  his  sacred  wave  ; 

Or  mid  the  central  depth  of  blackening  woods, 
High-rais’d  in  solemn  theatre  around. 

Leans  the  huge  elephant ; wisest  of  brutes  I 
O truly  wise ! with  gentle  might  endow’d  ; 


The,  Hippopotamus,  or  river-horse. 


SUMMER. 


95 


Though  pow  ^rful,  not  destructive  ! here  he  sees 
Revolving  a/?es  sweep  the  changeful  earth, 

And  empires  rise  and  fall ; regardless  he 

Of  what  the  l ever  resting-race  of  men 

Project ; thrcce  happy  ! could  he  ’scape  their  guile, 

Who  mine  from  cruel  avarice,  his  steps ; 

Or  with  his  towery  grandeur  swell  their  state, 

The  pride  oC  kings  ’ or  else  his  strength  pervert. 

And  bid  hL  i rage  amid  the  mortal  fray. 

Astonish’d  at  the  madness  of  mankind. 

Wide  o’er  the  winding  umbrage  of  the  floods. 

Like  vivid  blossoms  glowing  from  afar, 

Thick  swarm  the  brighter  birds.  For  Nature’s  hand, 
That  with  a sportive  vanity  has  deck’d 
The  plumy  nations,  there  her  gayest  hues 
Profusely  pours.  But,  if  she  bids  them  shine. 

Array’d  in  all  the  beauteous  beams  of  day, 

Yet  frugal  still,  she  humbles  them  in  song.* 

Nor  envy  we  the  gaudy  robes  they  lent 
Proud  Montezuma’s  realm,  whose  legions  cast 
A boundless  radiance  waving  on  the  sun. 

While  Philomel  is  ours ; while  in  our  shade. 

Through  the  soft  silence  of  the  listening  night, 

The  sober-suited  songstress  thrills  her  lay. 

But  come,miy  Muse,  the  desert-barrier  burst, 

A wide  expanse  of  lifeless  sand  and  sky 
And,  swifter  than  the  toiling  caravan, 

* In  all  the  regions  of  the  torrid  zone,  the  birdsy 
though  more  beautiful  in  their  plumage^  are  observed 
to  be  less  melodious  than  ours. 


SUMMER, 


9Cl 

Shoot  o’er  the  vale  of  Sennar  ; ardent  climb 
The  Nubian  mountains,  and  the  secret  bounds 
Of  jealous  Abyssinia  boldly  pierce, 
riiou  art  no  ruffian,  who  beneath  the  mask 
Of  social  commerce  com’st  to  rob  their  wealth ; 

No  holy  fury  thou,  blaspheming-  Heaven, 

With  consecrated  steel  to  stab  their  peace, 

And  through  the  land,  yet  red  from  civil  wounds, 
To  spread  the  purple  tyranny  of  Rome. 

Thou,  like  the  harmless  bee,  may’st  freely  range, 
From  mead  to  mead  bright  with  exalted  flowers  ; 
From  jasmine  grove  to  grove,  may’st  wander  gay ; 
Through  palmy  shades  and  aromatic  woods. 

That  grace  the  plains,  invest  the  peopled  hills, 

Aid  up  the  more  than  Alpine  mountains  wave. 
There  on  the  breezy  summit,  spreading  fair, 

F or  many  a league  ; or  on  stupendous  rocks, 

That  from  the  sun-redoubling  valley  lift. 

Cool  to  the  middle  air,  their  lawney  tops  ; 

Where  palaces,  and  fanes,  and  villas  rise  ; 

And  gardens  smile  around,  and  cultur’d  fields; 
And  fountains  gush ; and  careless  herds  and  flocks 
Securely  stray ; a world  within  itself, 

Disdaining  all  assault : there  let  me  draw 
Ethereal  soid  ; there  drink  reviving  gales. 
Profusely  breathing  from  the  spicy  groves. 

And  vales  of  fragrance ; there  at  distance  hear 
The  roaring  floods,  and  cataracts  that  sweep 
From  disembowell’d  earth  the  virgin  gold; 

And  o’er  the  varied  landscape,  restless,  rove* 
Fervent  with  life  of  every  fairer  kind: 


SUMMER. 


97- 


A land  of  wonders  ! which  the  sun  still  eyes 
With  ray  direct,  as  of  the  lovely  realm 
Enamour’d,  and  delighting  there  to  dwell. 

How  changed  the  scene ! in  blazing  height  of  noouj 
The  sun,  oppress’d,  is  plung’d  in  thickest  gloom. 

Still  horror  reigns  ! a dreary  twilight  round, 

Of  struggling  night  and  day  maligmint  mix’d  ! 

For  to  the  hot  equator  crowding  fast, 

Where,  highlj^  rarefied,  the  yielding  air 
Admits  their  stream,  incessant  vapours  roll, 

Amazing  clouds  on  clouds  continual  heap’d; 

Or  whirl’d  tempestuous  by  the  gusty  wind. 

Or  silent  borne  along,  heavy,  and  slow. 

With  the  big  stores  of  steaming  oceans  charg’d 
Meantime,  amid  these  upper  seas,  condens’d 
Around  the  cold  aerial  mountain’s  brow, 

I And  by  conflicting  winds  together  dash’d, 

I The  thunder  holds  his  black  tremendous  throne  ; 

' From  cloud  to  cloud  the  rending  lightnings  rage  ; 
i Till,  in  the  furious  elemental  war 
Dissolv’d  the  whole  precipitated  mass 
Unbroken  floods  and  solid  torrents  pours.  t 

I The  treasures  these,  hid  from  the  bounded  search 
^ Of  ancient  knowledge  ; whence  with  annual  pomp, 

: Rich  king  of  floods  ' o’erflows  the  swelling  Nile. 

From  his  two  springs,  in  Gojam’s  sunny  realm, 

I Pure-swelling  out,  he  through  the  lucid  lake 
i Of  fair  Dambea  rolls  his  infant  stream. 

1 There,  by  the  naiads  nurs’d  he  sports  away 
His  playful  youth,  amid  the  fragrant  isles, 

That  with  unfading  verdure  smile  around. 


SUMMER. 


9S 

Ambitious,  thence,  the  manly  river  breaks  ; 

And  g^athering-  many  a flood,  and  copious  fed 
With  aii  the  mellow’d  treasures  of  the  sky, 

Winds  in  progressive  majesty  along: 

Tiu'oiigh  splendid  kiiigdoms  now  devolves  his  maze  , 

Now  wanders  wild  o’er  solitary  tracts 
Of  life-deserted  sand  ; till,  glad  to  quit 
The  joyless  desert,  down  the  Nubian  rocks 
From  thundering  steep  to  steep,  he  pours  his  urn, 

And  Fgypt  joys  beneath  the  spreading  wave. 

His  brother  Niger  too,  and  ail  the  floods  = 

In  which  the  full-forin’d  maids  of  Afric  lave  ’ 

Tiieir  jetty  limbs;  and  all  that  from  the  tract  I 

Of  woody  mountains  stretch’d  through  gorgeous  Ind  ! 
Fall  on  Cormandei’s  coast,  or  Malabar;  tj 

Fi  oin  Menam’s*  orient  stream,  that  nightly  shines 
With  insect-lamps,  to  where  Aurora  sheds  •: 

On  Indus’  smiling  banks  the  rosy  shower  ; 

All,  at  this  bouiiteous  season,  ope  tlieir  urns, 

And  pour  untoiiing  harvest  o’er  the  land. 

Nor  less  thy  world,  Columbus,  drinks  refresh’d  • 

i^^'he  lavish  moisture  of  the  melting  year.  ( 

Wide  o’er  his  isles,  the  branching  Oronoque  | 

Rolls  a browm  deluge  ; and  the  native  drives 
To  dwell  aloft  on  life-suflicing  trees,  ^ 

At  once  his  dome,  his  robe,  his  food,  and  arms.  J 

Sweil’d  by  a thousand  streams,  impetuous  hurl’d  || 


* TJie  river  ihat  runs  through  Siam;  omvhose banks 
i!  vast  multitude  of  those  insects,  called  fire-flies,  make 
a beautiful  appearance  in  the  night. 


SUMMER. 


99 


F roni  all  the  roaring  Andes,  hugh,  descends 
The  mighty  Orellana  * Scarce  the  Muse 
Dares  stretch  her  wing  o’er  this  enormous  mass 
Of  rushing  water  ; scarce  she  dares  attempt  : 

The  sea-like  Plata  ; to  whose  dread  expanse, 
Continuous  depth,  and  wondrous  length  of  course. 
Our  floods  are  rills.  With  unabated  force, 

In  silent  dignity  they  sweep  along  ; 

And  traverse  realms  unknown,  and  blooming  wilds 
And  fruitful  desarts,  worlds  of  solitude  ! 

Where  the  sun  smiles  and  seasons  teem  in  vain, 
Unseen,  and  unenjoy’d.  Forsaking  these. 

O’er  peopled  plains  they  far  diffusive  flow. 

And  many  a nation  feed,  and  circle  safe, 

In  their  soft  bosom,  many  a happy  isle  ; 

The  seat  of  blameless  Pan,  yet  undisturb’d 
By  Christian  crimes  and  Europe’s  cruel  sons. 

Thus  pouring  on  they  proudly  seek  the  deep. 

Whose  vanquish’d  ti.de,  recoiling  from  the  shock, 
i Yields  to  this  liquid  weight  of  half  the  globe ; 

And  ocean  trembles  for  his  green  domain. 

1 But  what  avails  this  wondrous  waste  of  wealth  ^ 

; This  gay  profusion  of  luxurious  bliss  ? 
j Tnis  pomp  of  Nature  ? what  their  balmy  meads, 

I Their  powerful  herbs,  and  Ceres  void  of  pain  ? 

By  vagrant  birds  dispers’d,  and  wafting  winds. 

What  their  unplanted  fruits  ? what  the  cool  draughts, 
Th’  ambrosial  food,  rich  gums,  and  spicy  health, 

I Their  forests  yield  ? their  toiling  insects  what  ? 


The  river  of  the  Amasons, 


100 


SUMMER. 


Their  silky  pride,  and  veg-etabde  robes  ? 

Ah!  what  avail  their  fatal  treasures,  hid 
Deep  in  the  bowels  of  the  pitying-  earth, 

Golconda’s  gems,  and  sad  Potosi’s  mines  ; 

Where  dwelt  the  gentlest  children  of  the  sun  ? 

What  all  that  Afric’s  golden  rivers  roll. 

Her  odorous  wmods,  and  shining  ivory  stores  ? 
Ill-fated  race  ! the  softening  arts  of  Peace, 

Whate’er  the  humanizing  Muses  teach  ; 

The  godlike  wisdom  of  the  temper’d  breast ; 
Progressive  truth  ; the  patient  force  of  thought ; 
Investigation  calm,  whose  silent  powers 
Command  the  world  ; the  light  that  leads  to  heaven  , 
Kind  equal  rule  ; the  government  of  laws, 

And  all-protecting  Freedom,  which  alone 
Sustains  the  name  and^dignity  of  man  ; 

These  are  not  theirs.  The  parent-sun  himself 
Seems  o’er  this  wo.dd  of  slaves  to  tyrannize  ; 

And,  with  oppressive  ray,  the  roseate  bloom 
Of  beauty  blasting,  gives  the  gloomy  hue, 

And  feature  gross  : or  worse,  to  ruthless  deeds, 

Mad  jealousy,  blind  rage,  and  fell  revenge. 

Their  fervid  spiritiires.  Love  dwells  not  there  * 

The  soft  regards,  the  tenderness  of  life, 

The  heart-shed  tear,  th’  ineffable  delight 
Of  sweet  humanity  : these  court  the  bea>n 
Of  milder  climes  5 in  selfish  fierce  desire, 

And  the  wild  fury  of  voluptuous  sense. 

There  lost.  The  very  brute  creation  there 
This  rage  partakes,  and  burns  with  horrid  fire. 

Lo  ! the  green  serpent,  from  his  dark  abode, 


SUMMER. 


101 


Whici.  e’en  Imag-ination  fears  to  tread, 

At  noon  forth-issuing,  gathers  up  his  train 
In  orbs  immense  ; then,  darting  out  anew, 

Seeks  the  refreshing  fount ; by  wliich  diffus’d 
He  throws  his  folds  : and  while,  with  threat’ning 
And  deathful  jaws  erect,  the  monster  curls  [tongue. 
His  flaming  crest,  all  other  thirst  appall’d, 

Or  shivering  flies,  or  check’d  at  distance  stands. 

Nor  d’ares  approach.  But  still  more  direful  he, 

The  small  close-lurking  minister  of  fate, 

Whose  high  concocted  venom  through  the  veins 
A rapid  lightning  darts,  arresting  swift 
The  vital  current.  Form’d  to  humble  man. 

This  child  of  vengeful  Nature  ! there,  sublim’d 
To  fearless  lust  of  blood,  the  savage  race 
Roam,  licens’d  by  the  shading  hour  of  guilt. 

And  foul  misdeed,  when  the  pure  day  has  shut 
His  sacred  eye.  The  tiger  darting  fierce 
Impetuous  on  the  prey  his  glance  has  doom’d  : 

The  lively-shining  leopard,  speckled  o’er 
With  many  a spot,  the  beauty  of  the  waste ; 

And,  scorning  all  the  taming  arts  of  man, 

I'he  keen  hyena,  fellest  of  the  fell 
These,  rushing  from  th  intiospiiable  woods 
Of  Mauritania,  or  the  tufty  isles 
lliat  verdant  rise  amid  the  Lybianwild, 

Innumerous  glare  around  their  shaggy  king. 
Majestic,  stalking  o’er  the  printed  sand  ; 

And,  with  imperious  and  repeated  roars. 

Demand  their  fated  food.  The  fearful  flocks 
Crowd  near  the  guardian  swain  ; the  nobler  herds, 

i2 


102 


SUMMER. 


Where  round  their  lordly  bull,  in  rural  ease, 
They  ruminating  lie,  with  horror  hear 
The  coming  rage.  Th’  awaken’d  village  starts  ; 
And  to  her  fluttering  breast  the  mother  strains 
Her  thoughtless  infant.  From  the  pirate’s  den, 
Or  stern  Morocco’s  tyrant  fang  escap’d. 

The  wretch  half-wishes  for  his  bonds  again  : 
While,  uproar  all,  the  wilderness  resounds, 
From  Atlas  eastward  to  the  frightened  Nile. 

Unhappy  he  ! who  from  the  first  of  joys, 
Society,  cut  ofi*,  is  left  alone 
Amid  this  world  of  death.  Day  after  day, 

Sad  on  the  jutting  eminence  he  sits. 

And  views  the  main  that  ever  toils  below ; 

Still  fondly  forming  in  the  furthest  verge. 

Where  the  round  ether  mixes  with  the  wave, 
Ships,  dim-discover’d,  dropping  from  the  clouds 
At  evening,  to  the  setting  sun  he  turns 
A mournful  eye,  and  down  his  dying  heart 
Sinks  helpless . while  the  wonted  roar  is  up, 
And  hiss  contiiiual  through  the  tedious  night. 
Yet  here,  e’en  here,  into  these  black  abodes 
Of  monsters,  unappall’d  from  stooping  Rome, 
And  guilty  C?Esar,  Liberty  retir’d. 

Her  Cato  following  through  Nurnidian  wilds  : 
Disdainful  of  Campania’s  gentle  plains. 

And  all  the  green  delights  Ausonia  pours  ; 

Wlien  for  them  she  must  bend  the  servile  knee. 
And  fawning  take  the  splendid  robber’s  boon. 

Nor  stop  the  terrors  of  these  regions  here. 
Commission’d  demons  oft,  angels  of  wrath  ! 


SUMMER. 


103 


Let  loose  the  raging  elements.  Bieath’d  hot, 

From  all  the  boundless  furnace  of  the  sky, 

And  the  wide  glittering  waste  of  burning  sand, 

A suffocating  wind  the  pilgrim  smites 

With  instant  death.  Patient  of  thirst  and  toil, 

Son  of  the  desert ! e’en  the  camel  feels, 

Shot  through  his  witlier’d  heart,  the  fiery  blast. 

Or  from  the  black-red  ether,  bursting  broad, 

Sallies  the  sudden  whirlwind.  Straight  the  sands, 
Commov’d  around,  in  gathering  eddies  play ; 

Nearer  and  nearer  still  they  darkening  come  ; 

Till,  with  the  general  all-involving  stonii 
Swept  up,  the  whole  continuous  wilds  arise  ; 

And  by  their  noonday  fount  dejected  thrown. 

Or  sunk  at  night  in  sad  disastrous  sleep. 

Beneath  descending  hills,  the  caravan 
Is  buried  deep.  In  Cairo’s  crowded  streets 
Th’  impatient  merchant,  wondering,  waits  in  vain, 
And  Mecca  saddens  at  the  long  delay. 

But  chief  at  sea,  whose  every  flexile  wave 
Obeys  the  blast,  the  aereal  tumult  swells. 

In  the  dread  ocean,  undulating  wide, 

Beneath  the  radiant  line  that  girts  the  globe. 

The  circling  Typhon,*  whirl’d  from  point  to  point, 
Exhausting  ail  the  rage  of  all  the  sky. 

And  dire  Ecnephia*  reign.  Amid  the  heavens, 
Falsely  serene,  deep  in  a cloudy  speckf 

* Typhon  and  Ecnephia,  names  of  particular  storms 
or  hurricanes,  known  only  between  the  tropics. 

t Called  by  sailors  the  Ox-eye,  being  in  appearance 
at  first  no  bigger 


SUMMER. 


ilH 

Compress’d  the  mightj  tempest  brooding  dwells  : 

Of  no  regard,  save  to  the  skilful  eye, 

Fiery  and  foul,  the  small  prognostic  hangs  * 

Aloft,  or  on  the  promontory’s  brow 
Musters  its  force.  A faint  deceitful  calm, 

A fluttering  gale,  the  demon  sends  before, 

To  tempt  the  spreading  sail.  Then  down  at  once. 
Precipitant,  descends  a mingled  mass 
Of  roaring  winds,  and  flame,  and  rushing  floods. 

In  wild  amazement  fix’d  the  sailor  stands. 

Art  is  too  slow  : by  rapid  fate  oppress’d 

His  broad-wing’d  vessel  drinks  the  whelming  tide. 

Hid  in  the  bosom  of  the  black  abyss. 

With  such  mad  seas  the  daring  Gama*  fought. 

For  many  a day,  and  many  a dreadful  night. 
Incessant,  labouring  round  the  stormy  Cape  ; 

By  bold  ambition  led,  and  bolder  thirst 
Of  gold.  For  then  from  ancient  gloom  emerg’d 
The  rising  world  of  trade  : the  Genius,  then. 

Of  navigation,  that  in  hopeless  sloth, 

Had  slumber’d  on  the  vast  Atlantic  deep. 

For  idle  ages,  starting,  heard  at  last 

The  Lusitanian  Prince  ;t  who,  Heav’n-inspir’d, 

To  love  of  useful  glory  rous’d  mankind, 

Anti  in  unbounded  commerce  mix’d  the  world. 

* Vasco  de  Gama^  the  first  who  sailed  round  Africa f 
by  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  to  the' East  Indies. 

i Don  Henry,  third  son  to  fohn  the  first.  King  of 
Portugal.  His  strong  gtnhis  to  the  discovery  of  new 
countries  was  the  chief  source  of  all  the  modern  im~ 
provements  in  navigation. 


SUMMER 


10, 


Increasing  still  the  terrors  of  these  storms, 

His  jaws  horrific  arm’d  with  threefold  fate, 

Here  dwells  the  direful  shark.  Lur’d  by  the  scent 
Of  steaming  crowds,  of  rank  disease,  and  death. 
Behold ! he  rushing  cuts  tJie  briny  flood. 

Swift  as  the  gale  can  bear  the  ship  along ; 

And,  from  the  partners  of  that  cruel  trade, 

Wliich  spoils  unhappy  Guinea  of  her  sons, 

Demands  his  share  of  prey — demands  themselves. 
The  stormy  fates  descend  : one  death  involves 
Tyrants  and  slaves ; when  straight,  their  mangled  liml 
Crashing  at  once,  he  dyes  the  purple  seas 
With  gore,  and  riots  in  the  vengeful  meal. 

When  o’er  this  world,  by  equinoctial  rains 
Flooded  immense,  looks  out  the  joyless  sun, 

And  draws  the  copious  stream  : from  swampy  fens 
Where  putrefaction  into  life  ferments. 

And  breaths  destructive  myriads;  or,  from  woods. 
Impenetrable  shades,  recesses  foul, 

In  vapours  rank  and  blue  corruption  wrapt, 

Whose  gloomy  horrors  yet  no  desperate  foot 
Has  ever  dared  to  pierce ; then  wasteful,  forth 
Walks  the  dire  power  of  pestilent  disease.  * 

A thousand  hideous  fiends  her  course  attend, 

Sick  Nature  blasting,  and  to  heartless  wo. 

And  feeble  desolation  casting  down 
The  towering  hopes  and  all  the  pride  of  Man 
Such  as,  of  late,  at  Carthagena  quench’d 
The  British  fire.  You,  gallant  Vernon ! saw 
The  miserable  scene ; you,  pitying,  saw 
To  infant  weakness  sunk  the  w^arrior’s  arm, 


106 


SUMMER. 


Saw  the  deep-racking  pang,  the  ghastly  form, 

The  lip  pale-quivering,  and  the  beamless  eye 
No  more  with  ardour  bright : you  heard  the  groans 
Of  agonizing  ships,  from  shore  to  shore  ; 
iTeard,  nightly  plung’d  amid  the  sullen  waves, 

The  frequent  corse ; while  on  each  other  fix’d, 

In  sad  presage,  the  blank  assistants  seem’d, 

Silent,  to  ask,  whom  Fate  would  next  demand. 

What  need  I mention  those  inclement  skies, 
Where,  frequent  o’er  the  sickening  city.  Plague, 

The  fiercest  child  of  Nemesis  divine. 

Descends  ? From  Ethiopia’s  poison’d  woods. 

From  stifled  Cairo’s  filth,  and  fetid  fields 
With  locust-armies  putrifying  heap’d 
This  great  destroyer  sprung.*  Her  awful  rage 
The  brutes  escape : Man  is  her  destin'd  prey. 
Intemperate  Man  ! and,  o’er  hi«  guilty  domes, 

She  draws  a close  incumbent  cloud  of  death  ; 
Uninterrupted  by  the  living  winds. 

Forbid  to  blow  a wholesome  breeze  ; and  stain’d 
With  many  a mixture  by  the  sun  suflfus’d. 

Of  angry  aspect.  Princely  wisdom,  then. 

Dejects  his  watchful  eye  ; and  from  the  hand 

Of  feeble  justice,  ineffectual,  drop 

The  sword  and  balance  : mute  the  voice  of  joy, 

And  hush’d  the  clamour  of  the  busy  world. 

Empty  the  streets,  with  uncouth  verdure  clad  ; 

* These  are  the  causes  supposed  to  be  the  first  origin 
of  the  plague,  in  Dr.  Mead's  elegant  book  on  that  sub- 
ject. 


SUMMER. 


107 


Into  the  worst  of  deserts  sudden  turn’d 
The  cheerful  haunt  of  men  ; unless  escap’d  [reigns ; 
From  the  doom’d  house,  where  matchless  horror 
Shut  up  by  barbarous  fear,  the  smitten  wretch. 

With  frenzy  wild,  breaks  loose  ; and,  loud  to  Heaven 
Screaming,  the  dreadful  policy  arraigns. 

Inhuman,  and  unwise.  The  sullen  door. 

Yet  uninfected,  on  its  cautious  hinge 
Fearing  to  turn,  abhors  society  : 

Dependants,' friends,  relations.  Love  himself, 
Savag’d  by  wo,  forget  the  tender  tie, 

The  sweet  engagement  of  the  feeling  heart. 

But  vain  their  seltlsh  care  : the  circling  sky, 

The  wide  enlivening  air  is  full  of  fate  ; 

And,  struck  by  turns,  in  solitary  pangs 
They  fall,  iinblesl,  untended,  and  unmouni’d. 

Thus  o’er  the  prostrate  city  black  Despair 
Extends  her  raven  wing ; while,  to  complete 
The  scene  of  desolation,  stretch’d  around. 

The  grim  guards  stand,  denying  all  retreat, 

And  give  the  flying  wretch  abetter  death. 

Much  yet  remains  unsung:  the  rage  intense 
Of  brazen-vaulted  skies,  of  iron  fields. 

Where  drought  and  famine  starve  the  blasted  year  t 
Fir’d  by  the  torch  of  noon  to  tenfold  rage, 

Th’  infuriate  hill  that  shoots  the  pillar’d  flame  ; 

And,  rous’d  within  the  subterranean  v/orld, 

Th’  expanding  earthquake,  that  resistless  shakes 
Aspiring  cities  from  their  solid  base. 

And  buries  mountains  in  the  flaming  gulf. 

But  ’tis  enough  ; return,  my  vagrant  Muse  : 


SUMMER. 


lOS 

A nearer  scene  of  horror  calls  thee  home. 

Behold,  slow-settling-  o’er  the  lurid  grove, 

Unusual  darkness  broods  ; and  growing  gains 
The  full  possession  of  the  surcharg’d 
With  wrathful  vapour,  from  the  secret  beds 
Where  sleep  the  mineral  generations,  drawn. 

Thence  nitre,  sulphur,  and  the  fiery  spume 
Of  fat  bitumen,  steaming  on  the  day. 

With  various-tinctur’d  trains  of  latent  flame, 

Pollute  the  sky  ; and  in  yon  baleful  cloud, 

A reddening  gloom,  a magazine  of  fate, 

Ferment;  till,  by  the  touch  ethereal  rous’d. 

The  dash  of  clouds,  or  irritating  war. 

Of  fighting  winds,  while  all  is  calm  below, 

They  furious  spring.  A boding  silence  reigns. 
Dread  through  the  dun  expanse  ; save  the  duil  sound 
That  from  the  mountain,  previous  to  the  storm. 

Rolls  o’er  the  muttering  earth,  disturbs  the  flood, 
And  shakes  the  forest-leaf  without  a breath. 

Prone,  to  the  lowest  vale,  the  afirial  tribes 
Descend  : the  tempest-loving  raven  scarce 
Dares  wing  the  dubious  dusk.  In  rueful  gaze 
The  cattle  stand,  and  on  the  scowling  heavens 
Cast  a deploring  eye  ; by  man  forsook. 

Who  to  the  crowded  cottage  hies  him  fast. 

Or  seeks  the  shelter  of  the  downward  cave. 

’Tis  listening  fear,  and  dumb  amazement  all : 
When  to  the  startled  eye  the  sudden  glance 
Appears  far  south,  eruptive  through  the  cloud 
And  following  slower,  in  explosion  vast. 

The  thunder  raises  his  tremendous  voice. 


SUMMER. 


109 


At  fu  st,  heard  solemn  o’er  the  verge  of  heaven, 
The  tempest  growls  ; but  as  it  nearer  comes, 

And  rolls  its  awful  burden  on  the  wind. 

The  lightnings  flash  a larger  curve,  and  more 
The  noise  astounds  : till  over  head  a sheet 
Of  livid  flame  discloses  wide  ; then  shuts. 

And  opens  wider ; shuts  and  opens  still 
Expansive,  wrapping  ether  in  a blaze. 

F ollow's  the  loosen’d  aggravated  roar, 

Enlarging,  deepening,  mingling  ; peal  on  peal 
Crush’d  horrible,  convulsing  heaven  and  earth. 

Down  comes  a deluge  of  sonorous  hail. 

Or  prone-descending  rain.  Wide-rent,  the  clouds 
Pour  a whole  flood  ; and  yet,  its  flame  unquenrh’d, 
Th’  unconquerable  lightning  struggles  through. 
Ragged  and  fierce,  or  in  red  whirling,  balls, 

And  fires  the  mountain  with  redoubled  rage. 

Black  from  the  stroke,  above,  the  smould’ring  pine 
Stands  a sad  shatter’d  trunk  ; and,  stretch’d  below 
A lifeless  group  the  blasted  cattle  lie  : i 

Here  the  soft  flocks,  with  that  same  harmless  lock 
They  wore  alive,  and  ruminating  still 
In  fancy’s  eye;  and  there  the  frowning  bull. 

And  ox  half-rais’d.  Struck  on  the  castled  clilf. 

The  venerable  tower  and  spiry  fane 
Resign  their  aged  pride.  The  gloomy  woods 
Start  at  the  flash,  and  from  their  deep  recess, 
Wide-flaming  out,  their  trembling  inmates  shake. 
Amid  Caernarvon’s  mountains  rages  loud 
The  repercussive  roar . with  mighty 
Into  the  flashing  deep,  from  the  rude  rocks 
K 


110 


SUMMER. 


OfPenmanmaur  heap’d  hideous  to  the  sky, 

Tumble  the  smitten  cliffs  ; and  Snowden’s  j)eak, 
Dissolving-,  instant  yields  his  wintry  load. 

Far  seen,  the  heights  of  heathy  Cheviot  blaze., 

And  Thule  bellows  through  her  utmost  isles. 

Guilt  hears  appall’d,  with  deeply-troubled  thought. 
And  yet  not  always  on  the  guilty  head 
Descends  the  fated  flash.  Young  Celadon 
And  his  Amelia  were  a matchless  pair  ; 

With  equal  virtue  form’d,  and  equal  grace, 

The  same,  distinguish’d  by  their ^ex  alone: 

Hers  the  mild  lustre  of  the  blooming  morn. 

And  his  the  radiance  of  the  risen  day. 

They  lov’d : but  such  their  guileless  passion  was, 
As  in  the  dawn  of  time  inform’d  the  heart 
Of  innocence,  aud  undissembling  truth. 

’Twas  friendship,  heighten’d  by  the  mutual  wish, 
The  enchanting  hope,  and  sympathetic  glow, 
Beam’d  from  the  mutual  eye.  Devoting  all 
To  love,  each  was  to  each  a dearer  self ; 

Supremely  happy  in  th’  awaken’d  power 
Of  givingjoy.  Alone,  amid  the  shades, 

Still  in  harmonious  intercourse  they  liv’d 
The  rural  day,  and  talk’d  the  flowing  heart, 

Or  sigh’d  and  look’d  unutterable  things. 

So  pass’d  their  life,  a clear  united  stream, 

By  care  unruffled ; till,  in  evil  hour, 

The  tempest  caught  them  on  the  tender  walk, 
Heedless  how  far  and  where  its  mazes  stray’d  : 
While,  w ith  each  other  blest,  creative  love 
Still  bade  eternal  Eden  smile  around. 


SUMMER. 


Ill 


Presaging  instant  fate,  her  bosom  heav’d 
Unwonted  sighs,  and  stealing  oft  a look 
Of  the  big  gloom,  on  Celadon  her  eye 
Fell  tearful,  wetting  her  disorder’d  cheek. 

In  vain  assuring  love,  and  confidence 
In  Heaven,  repress’d  her  fear;  it  grew,  and  shook 
Her  frame  near  dissolution.  He  perceiv’d 
Th’  unequal  conflict;  and  as  angels  look 
On  dying  saints,  his  eyes  compassion  shed, 

VV'^hh  love  illumin’d  high.  “ Fear  not,”  he  said, 

‘‘  Sweet  innocence  ! thou  stranger  to  offence. 

And  inward  storm!  He,  who  yon  skies  involves 
In  frowns  of  darkness,  ever  smiles  on  thee 
With  kind  regard.  O’er  thee  the  secret  shaft 
That  wastes  at  midnight,  or  th’  undreaded  hour 
Of  noon,  flies  harmless  : and  that  very  voice. 
Which  thunders  terror  through  the  guilty  heart, 
With  tongues  of  seraphs  whispers  peace  to  thine. 
’Tis  safety  to  be  near  thee  sure,  and  thus 
To  clasp  perfection!”  From  his  void  embrace, 
(Mysterious  Heaven  !)  that  moment,  to  the  ground, 
A blacken’d  corse,  was  struck  the  beauteous  maid. 
But  who  can  paint  the  lover,  as  he  stood. 

Pierc’d  by  severe  amazement,  hating  life, 
Speechless,  and  fix’d  in  all  the  death  of  wo ! 

So,  faint  resemblance!  on  the  marble  tomb. 

The  well-dissembled  mourner  stooping  stands, 

For  ever  silent,  and  forever  sad. 

As  from  the  face  of  heaven  the  shatter’d  clouds 
Tumultuous  rove,  th’  interminable  sky 
Sublimer  swells,  and  o’er  the  world  expands 


112 


SUMMER. 


A purer  azure.  Through  the  lighten’d  air 
A higher  lustre  and  a clearer  calm, 

Diffusive,  tremble}  viMe,  as  if  in  sign 
Of  danger  past,  a glittering  robe  of  joy, 

Set  off  abundant  by  the  yellow  ray. 

Invests  the  fields  } and  Nature  smiles,  reviv'd. 

’Tis  beauty  all,  and  grateful  song  around. 

Join’d  to  the  low  of  kine,  and  numerous  bleat 
•Of  flocks  thick-nibbling  through  the  clover’d  vale. 
And  shall  the  hymn  be  marr’d  by  thankless  Man, 
Most  favour’d  ; who  with  voice  articulate 
Should  lead  the  chorus  of  this  lower  world  ? 

Shall  he,  so  soon  forgetful  of  the  Hand 
That  hush’d  the  thunder,  and  serenes  the  sky, 
Extinguish’d  feel  that  spark  the  tempest  wak’d 
That  sense  of  powers  exceeding  tar  his  own. 

Ere  yet  his  feeble  heart  has  lost  its  fears  ? 

Cheer’d  by  the  milder  beam,  the  sprightly  youth 
Speeds  to  the  well  known  pool,  whose  crystal  depth 
A sandy  bottom  shows.  Awhile  he  stands 
Gazing  the  inverted  landscape,  half  afraid 
To  meditate  the  blue  profound  below  ; 

Then  plunges  headlong  down  the  circling  flood. 

His  ebon  tresses  and  his  rosy  cheek 

Instant  emerge  } and  through  the  obedient  wave, 

At  each  short  breathing  by  his  lip  repell’d, 

V/ith  arms  and  legs  according  well,  he  makes, 

As  humour  leads,  an  easy-winding  patli : 

While  from  his  polish  d sides  a dewy  light 
Effuses  on  the  pleas’d  spectators  round. 

'i'iiis  is  the  purest  exercise  of  health, 


SUMMER, 


113 


The  kind  refresher  of  the  summer  heats; 

IVor,  when  cold  Winter  keens  the  brig^htening’ flood, 
Would  I wcak-shivering-  linger  on  the  brink. 

Thus  life  redoubles,  and  is  oft  preserv’d, 

By  the  bold  swimmer,  in  the  swift  iliapse 
Of  accident  disastrous  . Hence  the  limbs 
Knit  into  force  ; and  the  same  Roman  arm. 

That  rose  victorious  o’er  the  conquer’d  earth. 

First  learned,  while  tender,  to  subdue  the  wave. 

E’en  from  the  body’s  purity,  the  mind 
Receives  a secret  sympathetic  aid. 

Close  in  the  covert  of  a hazel  copse. 

Where  winded  into  pleasing  solitudes 
Runs  out  the  rambling  dale,  young  Damon  sat. 
Pensive,  and  pierc’d  with  love’s  delightful  pangs 
There  to  the  stream  that  down  the  distant  rocks 
Hoarse  murmuring  fell,  and  plaintive  breeze  that 
Among  the  bending  willows  ; falsely  he  [play’d 
Of  Musidora’s  cruelty  complain’d. 

She  felt  his  flame  ; but  deep  within  her  breast 
In  bashful  coyness,  or  in  maiden  pride. 

The  soft  return  conceal’d;  save  when.it  stole 
In  side-long  glances  from  her  downcast  eye. 

Or  from  her  swelling  soul  in  stifled  sighs. 

Touch’d  by  the  scene,  no  stranger  to  his  vow's, 

He  fram’d  a melting  lay,  to  try  her  heart ; 

And,  if  an  infant  passion  struggled  there. 

To  call  that  passion  forth.  Thrice  happy  swaiii ' 

A lucky  chance,  that  oft  decides  the  fate 
Of  mighty  monarchs,  then  decided  thine. 

For  lo!  conducted  by  the  laughing  Loves, 

8 K 2 


SUMMER. 

This  cool  retreat  his  Musidora  sought : 

Warm  in  her  cheek  the  sultry  season  glow’d  * 

And  rob’d  in  loose  array,  she  came  to  bathe 
FTer  fervent  limbs  in  the  refreshing  stream. 

What  shall  he  do  ? In  sweet  confusion  lost, 

And  dubious  flutterings,  he  awile  remain’d  : 

A pure  ingenuous  elegance  of  soul, 

A delicate  refinement  known  to  few, 

Perplex’d  his  breast,  and  urged  him  to  retire  : 

But  love  forbade.  Ye  prudes  in  virtue,  say, 

Say,  ye  severest,  what  would  you  have  done  ? 

Meantime,  this  fairer  nymph  than  ever  blest 
Arcadian  stream,  with  timid  eye  around 
The  banks  surveying,  stripp’d  her  beauteous  liinbs> 
To  taste  the  lucid  coolness  of  the  flood. 

Ah  then  ! not  Paris  on  the  piny  top 

Of  Ida  panted  stronger,  when  aside 

The  rival  goddesses  the  veil  divine 

Cast  unconfin’d,  and  gave  him  all  their  charms, 

Then,  Damon,  thou  ; as  from  the  snowy  leg. 

And  slender  foot,  th’  inverted  silk  she  drew  ; 

As  the  soft  touch  dissolv’d  the  virgin  zone  ; 

And,  through  the  parting  robe,  the  alternate  breast 
With  youth  wild-throbbing,  on  thy  lawless  gaze 
In  full  luxuriance  rose.  But,  desperate  youth, 

How  durst  thou  risk  the  soul-distracting  view  ? 

As  from  her  naked  limbs  of  glowing  white, 
Harmonious  sw^ell’dby  Nature’s  finest  hand. 

In  folds  loose  floating  fell  the  fainter  lawn ; 

And  fair-expos’d  she  stood,  shrunk  from  herself, 
With  fancy  blushing,  at  the  doubtful  breeze 


SUMMER. 


115 


Alarm’d,  and  starting- like  the  fearful  fawn  ? 

'I'iien  to  the  flood  she  rush’d  ; the  parted  tlood 
Its  lovely 'guest  with  closing  waves  receiv’d  ; 

And  every  beauty  softening,  every  grace 
Flushing  anew,  a mellow  lustre  shed  : 

As  shines  the  lily  through  the  crystal  mild  ; 

Or  as  the  rose  amid  the  morning  dew, 

Fresh  from  Aurora’s  hand  more  sweetly  glows. 
\Vhile  thus  she  wanton’d,  now  beneath  the  wave 
But  ill-conceal’d ; and  now  with  streaming  locks, 
That  half  embrac’d  her  in  a humid  veil. 

Rising  again  the  latent  Damon  drew 

Such  madd’ning  draughts  of  beauty  to  the  soul, 

As  for  awhile  o’erwhelm’d  his  raptur’d  thouglit 
With  luxury  too  daring.  Check’d  at  last. 

By  love’s  respectful  modesty,  he  deem’d 

The  theft  profane,  if  aught  profane  to  love 

Can  e’er  be  deem’d  ; and,  stiuggling  from  thc.shadey 

Wdth  headlong  hurry  fled  ; but  first  these  lines, 

Ti  tic’d  by  his  ready  pencil,  on  the  bank 
Witli  trembling  hand  he  threw : — Bathe  on,  my  fair, 
Yet  unbcheld  save  by  the  sacred  eye 
Of  faithful  love  ; I go  to  guard  thy  haunt, 

J'o  keep  from  thy  recess  each  vagrant  foot, 

And  each  licentious  eye.”  With  wild  surprise, 

As  if  to  marble  struck,  devoid  of  sense, 

A stupid  moment  motionless  she  stood  ; 

So  stands  the  statue*  that  enchants  the  world, 

So  bending  tries  to  veil  the  matchless  boast, 

* Tht  Venus  of  Medici 


116 


SUMMER. 


The  mingled  beauties  of  exulting  Greece, 
Recovering,  swift  she  flew  to  fuid  those  robes 
Which  blissful  Eden  knew  not;  and,  array’d 
In  careless  haste,  th’  alarming  paper  snateird. 

But,  when  her  Damon’s  well-known  hand  she  saw, 
Her  terrors  vanish’d,  and  a softer  train 
Of  mixt  emotions,  hard  to  be  describ’d, 

Her  sudden  bosom  seized  : shame  void  of  guih, 

The  charming  blush  of  innocence,  esteem, 

And  admiration  of  her  lover’s  flame, 

By  modesty  exalted : e’en  a sense 
Of  self-approving  beauty  stole  across 
Her  busy  thought.  At  length,  a tender  calm 
Hush’d  by  degrees  the  tumult  of  her  soul ; 

And  on  the  spreading  beech,  that  o’er  the  stream 
Incumbent  hung,  she  with  the  sylvan  pen 
Of  rural  lovers  this  confession  carv’d. 

Which  soon  her  Damon  kiss’d  with  wee])ing  joy  : 

Dear  youth  1 sole  judge  of  what  these  verses  mean 
By  fortune  too  much  favour’d,  but  by  love, 

Alas  ! not  favour’d  less,  be  still  as  now 
Discreet : tlie  tiiiie  may  come  you  need  not  fly.” 

The  sun  has  lost  his  rage:  his  downward  orb 
Slioots  nothing  now  but  animating  warmth, 

And  vital  lustre  ; that,  with  various  ray. 

Lights  up  the  clouds,  those  beauteous  robes  oflieaven 
Incessant  roll’d  into  romantic  .«hapes, 

The  dream  of  waking  fancy.  Broad  below, 

Cover’d  with  ripening  fruits,  and  swelling  fast 
Into  the  perfect  year,  the  pregnant  earth 
And  all  her  tribes  rejoice.  r^Jow  the  soft  hour 


SUMMER. 


117 


Of  walking  comes  : for  him  who  lonely  loves 
To  seek  the  distant  hills,  and  there  converse 
With  Nature  ; there  to  harmonize  his  heart, 

And  in  pathetic  song  to  breathe  around 
The  harmony  to  others.  Social  friends, 

Attun’d  to  happy  unison  of  soul ; 

To  whose  exalting  eye  a fairer  world. 

Of  which  the  vulgar  never  had  a glimpse, 

Displays  its  charms  ; whose  minds  are  richly  fraught 
Wiih  philosophic  stores,  superior  light; 

And  in  whose  breast,  enthusiastic  burns 
Virtue,  the  sons  of  interest  deem  romance; 

Now  call’d  abroad  enjoy  the  falling  day: 

Now  to  the  verdant  Portico  of  woods, 

To  Nature’s  vast  Lyceum,  forth  they  walk; 

By  that  kind  Scliool  where  no  proud  master  reigns, 
The  full  free  converse  of  the  friendly  heart,. 
Improving  and  improv’d.  Now  from  the  world. 
Sacred  to  sweet  retirement,  lovers  steal. 

And  pour  their  souls  in  transport;  which  the  Sire 
Of  love,  approving,  hears  and  calls  it  good. 

Which  way,  Amanda,  shall  we  bend  our  course  ? 

The  choice  perplexes.  Wherefore  should  we  choose? 

I All  is  the  same  with  thee.  S ay,  shall  we  wind 
Along  the  stream?  or  walk  the  smiling  mead? 

^ Or  court  the  forest  glade  ? o r wander  wild 
Among  the  waving  harvest?  or  ascend. 

While  radiant  Summer  open,  all  its  pride. 

Thy  hill,  delightful  Shene?*  Here  let  us  sweep 

* The  old  name  of  Richmond,  signifying,  m Saxon, 

\ Shining,  or  Splendour. 


ns 


SUMMER. 


The  boundless  landscape:  now  the  raptur’d  eye, 
Exulting-  swift,  to  huge  Augusta  send  ; 

Now  to  the  Sister-Hil4*  that  skirt  her  plain, 

To  lofty  Harrow  now,  and  now  to  where 
Majestic  Windsor  lifts  his  prinedy  brow. 

In  lovely  contrast  to  this  glorious  view, 

Calmly  magnificent,  then  will  v/e  turn 
To  where  the  silver  Thames  first  rural  grows. 
There  let  the  feasted  eye  unwearied  stray : 
Luxurious,  there,  rove  through  the  pendent  woods 
That  nodding  hang  o’er  Harrington’s  retreat ; 

And,  stooping  thence  to  Ham’s  embowering  walks. 
Beneath  whose  shades  in  spotless  peace  retir’d. 
With  her  the  pleasing  partner  of  his  heart, 

The  worthy  Queensbury  yet  laments  his  Gay  ; 

And  polished  Cornbury  woos  the  willing  Muscj 
Slow  let  us  trace  the  matchless  vale  of  Thames  ; 
Fair-winding  up  to  where  the  Muses  haunt 
In  Twit’nam’s  bowers,  and  for  their  Pope  implore 
The  healing  God  to  royal  Hampton’s  pile, 

To  Clermont’s  terrac’d  height,  and  Esher’s  groves 
Where  in  the  sweetest  solitude,  embrac’d 
By  the  soft  windings  of  the  silent  mole. 

From  courts  and  senates  Pelham  finds  repose. 
Enchanting  vale ! beyond  whate’er  the  Muse 
Has  of  Achaia  or  Hesperia  sung  ! 

O vale  of  bliss  ! O softly -swelling  hills  ! 

On  which  the  Power  of  Cultivation  lies, 

And  joys  to  see  the  wonders  of  his  toil. 

^ High  gate  and  Hampstead. 

1 In  his  last  sickness. 


SUMMER. 


119 


Heavens!  wbat  a goodly  prospect  spieads  around, 
Of  hills,  and  dales,  and  woods,  and  lawns,  and  spires, 
And  glittering  towns,  and  gilded  streams,  till  all 
The  stretching  landscape  into  smoke  decays  ! 

Happy  Britannia  ! where  the  Queen  of  Arts, 

Inspiring  vigour.  Liberty  abroad 

Walks,  unconfin’d,  e’en  to  thy  furthest  cots, 

And  scatters  plenty  with  unsparing  hand. 

Rich  is  thy  soil,  and  merciful  thy  clime  ; 

Thy  streams  unfailing  in  the  summer’s  drought ; 
Unmatch’d  thy  guardian  oaks;  thy  valleys  float 
With  golden  waves  ; and  on  thy  mountains  flecks 
Bleat  numberless  ; while  roving  round  their  sides. 
Bellow  the  blackening  herds  in  lusty  droves. 
Beneath,  thy  meadows  glow,  and  rise  unquell’d 
Against  the  mower’s  scythe.  On  every  hand 
Thy  villas  shine.  Thy  country  teems  with  wealth  ; 
And  property  assures  it  to  the  swain. 

Pleas’d,  and  unwearied  in  his  guarded  toil. 

Full  are  thy  cities  with  the  sons  of  Art ; 

And  trade  and  joy,  in  every  busy  street. 

Mingling  are  heard ; e’en  Drudgery  himself, 

As  at  the  car  he  sweats,  or  dusty  hews 

The  palace-stone,  looks  gay.  Thy  crowded  ports, 

’Where  rising  mas-ts  an  endless  prospect  yield  ; 

With  labour  burn  ; and  echo  to  the  shouts 

Of  hurried  sailor,  as  he  hearty  waves 

Hi , last  adieu  ; and  loosening  every  sheet, 

.lesigns  the  spreading  vessel  to  the  wind. 

Bold,  firm,  and  graceful,  are  thy  generous  youth, 
C}  liardship  sln^^w’d  and  by  danger  fir’d , 


120 


SUMMER. 


Scattering  the  nations  where  they  go ; and  first 
Or  on  the  listed  plain,  or  stormy  seas. 

Mild  are  thy  glories  too,  as  o’er  the  plans 
Of  thriving  peace  thy  thoughtful  sires  preside  j 
In  genius,  and  substantial  learning  high; 

For  every  virtue,  every  worth,  renown’d ; 

Sincere,  plain -hearted,  hospitable,  kind  ; 

Vet  like  the  mustering  thunder  when  provok’d, 
The  dread  of  tyrants,  and  the  soul  resource 
Of  those  that  under  grim  oppression  groan. 

Thy  sons  of  glory  many ! Alfred  thine ; 

In  whom  the  splendour  of  heroic  war, 

And  more  heroic  peace,  when  govern’d  well. 
Combine ; whose  hallow’d  name  tlie  Virtues  saint, 
And  his  own  muses  love  ; the  best  of  kings  ! 

With  him  thy  Edwards  and  thy  Henrys  shine. 
Names  dear  to  fame  ; the  first  who  deep  impress’d 
On  haughty  Gaul  the  terror  of  thy  arms. 

That  awes  her  genius  still.  In  statesmen  thou, 
And  patriots,  fertile.  Thine  a steady  More, 

Who,  with  a generous  though  unshaken  zeal, 
Withstood  a brutal  tyrant’s  useful  rage  : 

Like  Cato  firm,  like  Aristides  just. 

Like  rigid  Cincinnatus  nobly  poor; 

A dauntless  soul  erect,  who  smil’d  on  death. 

Frugal,  and  wise,  a Walsingham  is  thine, 

A Drake,  who  made  thee  mistress  of  the  deep. 

And  bore  thy  name  in  thunder  round  the  world. 
Then  flam  d thy  spirit  high:  but  who  can  speak 
The  numerous  worthies  of  the  Maiden  Reign  } 

In  Raleigh  mark  their  every  glory  mix’d; 


SUMMER. 


121 


Raleig-Ii,  the  scourge  of  Spain!  whose  breast  with  all 
The  sage,  the  patriot,  and  the  hero  burn’d. 

Nor  sunk  his  vigoyr,  when  a coward  reign 
The  warrior  fetter’d,  and  at  last  resign’d, 

To  glut  the  vengeance  of  a vanquish’d'  foe. 

7’hen,  active  still  and  unrestrain’d,  liis  mind 
Explor’d  the  vast  extent  of  ages  past. 

And  with  his  prison-hours  enrich’d  the  world  ; 

Yet  found  no  times,  in  all  the  long  research, 

So  glorious,  or  so  base,  as  those  he  prov’d. 

In  which  he  conquer’d,  and  in  which  he  bled. 

Nor  can  the  Muse  the  gallant  Sidney  pass, 

The  plume  of  w'ar  1 with  early  laurels  crov/n’d, 

The  lover’s  myrtle,  and  the  poet’s  bay. 

A Hampden  too  is  thine,  illustrious  land! 

Wise,  strenuous,  firm,  of  unsubmitting  soul, 

Who  stemm'd  the  torrent  of  a downward  age 
To  slavery  prone,  and  bade  thee  rise  again, 

In  all  thy  native  pomp  of  freedom  bold. 

Bright,  at  his  call,  the  Age  of  Men  effulg’d. 

Of  men  on  whom  late  time  a kindling  eye 
Shall  turn,  and  tyrants  tremble  while  they  read. 
Bring  every  sweetest  flower,  and  let  me  strew 
The  grave  where  Russel  lies;  whose  temper’d  blood, 
With  calmest  cheerfulness  for  thee  resign’d, 

Stain’d  the  sad  annals  of  a giddy  reign; 

Aiming  at  lawless  power,  though  meanly  sunk 

In  loose  inglorious  luxury.  With  him 

His  friend,  the  British  Cassius,*  fearless  bled ; 


Algernon  Sidney. 


122 


SUMMER. 


Of  high  detern  ‘n’d  «pirit.  roughly  brave, 

By  ancient  lear  -ng  to  tli’  enlighten’d  love 
Of  ancient  freedom  warm’d.  Fair  thy  renown 
In  aw^ful  sages  and  in  noble  bards ; 

Soon  as  the  light  of  dawning  Science  spread 
Her  orient  ray,  and  wak'dthe  Muses’  song. 

Thine  is  a Bacon  ^ hapless  in  his  choice, 

Unfit  to  stand  the  civil  storm  of  state, 

And  through  the  smooth  barbarity  of  courts. 

With  firm  but  pliant  virtue,  forward  still 
To  urge  his  course;  him  for  the  studious  shade 
Kind  Nature  form’d  ; deep,  comprehensive,  clear, 
Exact,  and  elegant ; in  one  rich  soul, 

Plato,  the  Stagyrite,  and  Tully  join’d. 

The  great  deliverer  he  ; who  from  the  gloom 
Of  cloister’d  monks,  and  jargon-teaching  schools. 
Led  forth  the  true  Philosophy,  there  long 
Held  in  the  magic  chain  of  words  and  forms. 

And  definitions  void:  he  led  her  forth, 

Daughter  of  Heaven  I that  slow-ascending  still, 
Investigating  sure  the  chain  of  things, 

With  radiant  finger  points  to  heaven  again. 

The  generous  Ashley*  thine,  the  friend  of  man 
Who  scann’d  his  nature  with  a brother's  eye, 

His  weakness  prompt  to  shade,  to  raise  his  aim, 
To  touch  the  finer  movements  of  the  mind. 

And  with  the  moral  beauty  charm  the  heart. 

Why  need  I name  thy  Boyle,  whose  pious  search 
Amid  the  dark  recesses  of  his  works, 

* Anthony  Ashley  Cooper^  Earl  of  Shaftesbury. 


SUMMER. 


123 


The  great  Creator  sought  ? and  why  thy  Locke, 
Who  made  the  whole  internal  \v6rld  his  own  ? 

Let  Newton,  pure  intelligence  ! whom  God 
To  mortals  lent  to  trace  his  boundless  works 
From  laws  sublimely  simple,  speak  thy  fame 
In  all  philosophy.  For  lofty  sense^ 

Creative  fancy,  and  inspection  keen 
Through  the  deep  windings  of  the  human  heart, 
Is  not  wild  Shakspeare  thine  and  Nature’s  boast 
Is  not  each  great,  each  amiable  Muse 
Of  classic  ages  in  thy  Milton  met  ? 

A genius  universal  as  his  theme ; 

Astonishing  as  chaos,  as  the  bloom 
Of  blowing  Eden  fair,  as  heaven  sublime  ! 

Nor  shall  my  verse,  that  elder  bard  forget, 
The  gentle  Spenser,  Fancy’s  pleasing  son  ; 

Who,  like  a copious  river,  pour’d  his  song 
O’er  all  the  mazes  of  enchanted  ground  : 

Nor  thee,  his  ancient  master,  laughing  sage, 
Chaucer,  whose  native  manners-painting  verse. 
Well  moraliz’d,  shines  through  the  gothic  cloud 
Of  time  and  language  o’er  thy  genius  thrown. 

May  my  song  soften,  as  thy  daughters  I, 
Britannia,  hail ! for  beauty  is  their  own, 

The  feeling  heart,  simplicity  of  life, 

And  elegance,  and  taste  : the  faultless  form, 
Shap’d  by  the  hand  of  harmony  ; the  cheek, 
Where  the  live  crimson,  through  the  native  white 
Soft-shooting,  o’er  the  face  diffuses  bloom. 

And  every  nameless  grace  ; the  parted  lip. 

Like  the  red  rose-bud  moist  wdth  morning-dew, 


124 


SUMMER- 


Breathing  delight;  and,  under  flowing  jet, 

Or  sunny  ringlets,  or  of  circling  brown, 

The  neck  slight-shaded,  and  the  swelling  breast : 
The  look  resistless,  piercing  to  the  soul, 

And  by  the  soul  inform’d,  when  drest  in  loye 
She  sits  high-smiling  in  the  conscious  eye. 

• Island  of  bliss  ! amid  the  subject  seas. 

That  thunder  round  thy  rocky  coast,  set  up, 

At  once  the  wonder,  terror,  and  delight, 

Of  distant  nations ; whose  remotest  shores 
Can  soon  be  shaken  by  thy  naval  arm  ; 

Not  to  be  shook  thyself,  but  all  assaults 
Baffling,  as  thy  hoar  cliffs  the  loud  sea-wave. 

O Thou  ! by  whose  Almighty  nod  the  scale 
Of  empire  rises,  or  alternate  falls. 

Send  forth  the  saving  Virtues  round  the  land. 

In  bright  patrol ; white  Peace  and  social  Love ! 
The  tender  looking  Charity,  intent 
On  gentle  deeds,  and  shedding  tears  through  smiles 
Undaunted  Truth,  and  Dignity  of  mind  : 

Courage  compos’d,  and  keen;  sound  Temperance, 
Healthful  in  heart  and  look ; clear  Chastity, 

With  blushes  reddening  as  she  moves  along, 
Disorder’d  at  the  deep  regard  she  draws  ; 

Bough  Industry;  Activity  untir’d. 

With  copious  life  inform’d,  and  all  awake; 

While  in  the  radiant  front,  superior  shines 
That  first  Paternal  virtue.  Public  Zeal ; 

Who  throws  o’er  all  an  equal  wide  survey, 

And,  ever  musing  on  the  common  vA^eal, 

Still  labours  glorious  with  some  great  design. 


SUMMER. 


125 


Low  walks  the  sun,  and  broadens  by  degrees, 
Just  o’er  the  verge  of  day.  The  shifting  clouds 
Assembled  gay,  a richly-gorgeous  train, 

Jn'all  their  pomp  attend  his  setting  throne. 

Air,  earth,  and  ocean,  smile  immense.  And  now. 
As  if  his  weary  chariot  souglit  the  bowers 
Of  Amphitrite,  and  her  tending  nymphs, 

(So  Grecian  fable  sung)  he  dips  his  orb  ; 

Now  half-imme'*s’d  ; and  now  a golden  curve 
Gives  one  bright  glance,  then  total  disappears 
Lor  ever  running  an  enchanted  round. 

Passes  the  day,  deceitful,  vain,  and  void  ; 

As  fleets  the  vision  o’er  the  formful  brain. 

This  moment  hurrying  wild  th’  impassioned  soul, 
The  next  in  nothing  lost.  ’Tis  so  to  him. 

The  dreamer  of  this  earth,  an  idle  blank  ; 

A sight  of  horror  to  tlie  cruel  wretch, 

Who  all  day  long  in  sordid  pleasure  roll’d, 

H imself  a useless  load,  has  squander’d  vile, 

Upon  his  scoundrel  train,  what  might  have  cheer’d 
A drooping  family  of  modest  worth. 

But  to  the  generous  still-improving  mind, 

'J'hat  gives  the  hopeless  heart  to  sing  for  joy, 
Diffusing  kind  benehcence  around, 

Boastless;  as  now  descends  the  silent  dew ; 

To  him  the  long  review  of  order’d  life 
is  inward  rapture,  only  to  be  felt. 

Confess’d  from  yonder  slow  extinguish’d  clouds, 
All  ether  softening,  sober  Evening  takes 
Her  wonted  station  in  the  middle  air  ; 

A thousand  shadows  at  her  beck.  First  this 
L 2 


126 


SUMMER, 


She  sends  on  earth  ; then  that  of  deeper  dj'e 
Steals  soft  behind;  and  then  a deeper  still, 

In  circle  following  circle,  gathers  round, 

To  close  the  face  of  things.  A fresher  gale 
Begins  to  wave  the  wood,  and  stir  the  strcajn, 
Sweeping  with  shadowy  gusts  the  fields  of  corn 
While  the  quail  clamours  for  his  running  mate. 
Wide  o’er  the  thistly  lawn,  as  swells  the  breeze 
A whitening  shower  of  vegetable  down 
Amusive  floats.  The  kind  impartial  care 
Of  Nature  nought  disdains  : thoughtful  to  feed 
Her  lowest  sonsj  and  clothe  the  coming  year, 
From  field  to  field  the  feather’d  seeds  she  wings 
His  folded  dock  secure,  the  shepherd  home 
Hies,  merry-hearted  ; and  by  turns  relieves 
The  ruddy  milk-maid  of  her  brimming  pail ; 

The  beauty  whom  perhaps  his  witless  heart, 
Unknowing  what  the  joy-mixt  anguish  means, 
Sincerely  loves,  by  that  best  language  shown 
Of  cordial  glances,  and  obliging  deeds. 

Onward  they  pass,  o’er  many  a panting  height, 
And  valley  sunk,  and  unfrdquented  ; where 
At  fall  of  eve  the  fairy  people  throng. 

In  various  game,  and  revelry,  to  pass 
The  summer-night,  as  village-stories  tell. 

But  far  about  they  wander  from  the  grave 
Of  him,  whom  his  ungentle  fortune  urg’d 
Against  his  own  sad  breast  to  lift  the  hand 
Of  impious  violence.  The  lonely  tower 
Is  also  shunn’d  ; whose  mournful  chambers  hold, 
So  night-struck  Fancy  dreams,  the  yelling  ghost. 


SUMMER, 


m 

Amongthe  crooked  lanes,  on  every  hedge, 

The  glow-worm  lights  his  gem ; and,  through  the  dark, 
A moving  radiance  twinkles.  Evening  yields 
The  world  to  Night ; not  in  her  winter-robe 
Of  massy  Stygian  woof,  but  loose  array'd 
In  mantle  dun.  A faint  erroneous  ray, 

Glanc’d  from  th’  imperfect  surfaces  of  things, 

Flings'  half  an  image  on  the  straining  eye  ; 

While  wavering  woods,  and  villages,  and  streams, 
And  rocks,  and  mountain-tops,  that  long  retain’d 
Th’  ascending  gleam,  are  all  one  swimming  scene; 
Uncertain  if  beheld.  Sudden  to  heaven 
Thence  weary  vision  turns  ; where,  leading  soft 
The  silent  hours  of  love,  with  purest  ray 
Sweet  Venus  shines;  and  from  hei  genial  rise, 

When  daylight  sickens  till  it  springs  afresh, 

Unrivall’d  reigns,  the  fairest  lamp  of  Night. 

As  thus  th’  effulgence  tremulous  I drink, 

With  cherish’d  gaze,  the  lambent  lightnings  shoot 
Across  the  sky  ; or  horizontal  dart 
In  wondrous  shapes;  by  fearful  murmuring  crowds 
Portentous  deem’d.  Amid  the  radiant  orbs, 

That  more  than  deck,  that  animate  the  sky. 

The  life-infusing  suns  of  other  worlds; 

Lo!  from  the  dread  immensity  of  space 
Returning,  with  accelerated  course. 

The  rushing  comet  to  the  sun  descends  ; 

And  as  he  sinks  below  the  shading  earth, 

With  awful  train  projected  o’er  the  heavens, 

The  guilty  nations  tremble.  But,  above 
'I'hose  superstitious  horrors  that  enslave 


1£8 


SUMMER. 


The  fond  sequacious  herd,  to  mystic  faith 
And  blind  amazement  prone  ; th’  enlighten’d  few, 
Whose  godlike  minds  Philosophy  exalts, 

The  glorious  stranger  hail.  They  feel  a joy  * 
Divinely  great ; they  in  their  powers  exult,  [spurns 
That  wondrous  force  of  thought,  which  mounting 
This  dusky  spot,  and  measures  all  the  sky ; 

While,  from  his  far  excursion  through  the  wilds 
Of  barren  ether,  faithful  to  his  time. 

They  see  the  blazing  wonder  rise  anew; 

In  seeming  terror  clad,  but  kindly  bent 
To  work  the  will  of  ail-sustaining  Love  : 

From  his  huge  vapoury  train  perhaps  to  shake 
Reviving  moisture  on  the  numerous  orbs, 

Through  which  his  long  ellipsis  winds ; perhaps 
To  lend  new  fuel  to  declining  suns. 

To  light  up  worlds,  and  feed  th’  eternal  fire. 

With  thee,  serene  Philosophy,  with  thee. 

And  thy  bright  garland,  let  me  crown  my  song  ; 
Effusive  source  of  evidence,  eaid  truth  ! 

A lustre  shedding  o'er  th’  ennobled  mind. 

Stronger  than  summer-noon;  and  pure  as  that, 
Whose  mild  vibrations  sooth  the  parted  soul, 

New  to  the  dawning  of  celestial  daj'.  [tliee, 

Hence  through  her  nourish’d  powers,  enlarg'd  by 
She  springs  aloft,  with  elevated  pride, 

Above  the  tangling  mass  of  low  desires 

That  bind  the  fluttering  crowd;  aaid,  angel- wing’d, 

The  heights  of  science  and  of  virtue  gains, 

Where  all  is  calm  and  clear;  with  Nature  round, 

Or  in  the  starry  regions,  or  th’  abyss. 


SUMMER, 


V29 


To  Reason’s  and  to  Fancy’s  eye  display’d: 

The  first  up-tracing,  from  the  dreai^y  void, 

The  chain  of  causes  and  effects,  to  Him, 

The  wo  rid -producing  Essence,  who  alone 
Possesses  being ; while  the  last  receives 
The  whole  magnificence  of  heaven  and  earth. 
And  every  beauty,  delicate  or  bold. 

Obvious  or  more  remote,  with  livelier  sense, 
Diffusive  painted  on  the  rapid  mind. 

Tutor’d  by  thee,  hence  Poetry  exalts 
Her  voice  to  ages;  and  informs  the  page 
With  music,  image,  sentiment,  and  thought. 
Never  to  die  ! the  treasure  of  mankind  ! 

Their  highest  honour,  and  their  truest  joy  ! 
Without  thee  what  were  unenlighten'd  Man  ? 

A savage  roaming  through  the  woods  and  wilds 
In  quest  of  prey;  and  with  the  unfashioncd  fur 
Rough-clad ; devoid  of  every  finer  art, 

And  elegance  of  life.  Nor  happiness 
Domestic,  mix’d  of  tenderness  and  care. 

Nor  moral  excellence,  nor  social  bliss, 

Nor  guardian  law  were  his  ; nor  various  skill 
To  turn  the  furrow,  or  to  guide  the  tool 
Mechanic  ; nor  the  heaven-conducted  prow 
Of  navigation  bold,  that  fearless  braves 
The  burning  line,  or  dares  the  wintry  pole! 
Mother  severe  of  infinite  delights  ! 

Nothing,  save  rapine,  indolence,  and  guile. 

And  woes  on  woes,  a still-revolving  train! 
Whose  horrid  circle  had  made  human  life 
Than  non-existence  worse  : but,  taught  by  thee, 
9 


330 


SUMMER. 


Ours  are  the  plans  of  policy  and  peace  ; 

To  live  like  brothers,  and  conjunctive  all , 
Embellish  life.  While  thus  laborious  crowds 
Ply  the  tough  oar,  Philosophy  directs 
The  ruling  helm  ; or,  like  the  liberal  breath 
Of  potent  heaven,  invisible,  the  sail 
Swells  out,  and  bears  the  inferior  world  along 
Nor  to  this  evanescent  speck  of  earth 
poorly  confin’d;  the  radiant  tracts  on  high 
Are  her  exalted  range  ; intent  to  gaze 
Creation  through  ; and,  from  that  full  complex 
Of  never-ending  wonders,  to  conceive 
Of  the  Sole  Being  right,  who  spoke  the  Word, 
And  Nature  mov’d  complete.  With  inward  view 
Thence  on  the  ideal  kingdom  swift  she  turns 
Her  eye  ; and  instant,  at  her  powerful  glance, 

Th’  obedient  phantoms  vanish  or  appear  ; 
Compound,  divide,  and  into  order  shift, 

Each  to  his  rank,  from  plain  perception  up 
To  the  fair  forms  of  Fancy’s  fleeting  train : 

To  reason  then,  deducing  truth  from  truth  ) 

And  notion  quite  abstract ; where  first  begins 
The  V.  orld  of  spirits,  action  all,  and  life 
Unfetter’d,  and  unmixt.  But  here  the  cloud. 

So  wills  Eternal  Providence,  sits  deep. 

Enough  for  us  to  know  that  this  dark  state. 

In  way  ward  passions  lost,  and  vain  pursuits. 

This  Infancy  of  Being,  cannot  prove 
The  final  issue  of  the  works  of  God  j 
By  boundless  Love  and  perfect  WTsdoni  form’d, 
And  ever  rising  with  the  rising  mind. 


THE  SEASONS. 


AUTUMN- 


THE  ARGUMENT. 

The  subject. proposed.  Addressed  to  Mr.  Onslow  A 
prospect  of  the  fields  ready  for  harvest.  Reflections 
in  praise  of  Industry  raised  by  that  vie  w.  Reaping. 
A tale  relative  lo  it.  A harvest  storm.  Shooting 
and  huntings  their  barbarity.  A ludicrous  account 
of  fox-hunting.  A view  of  an  orchard.  Wallfruii 
A vineyard.  A description  of  fogs,  frequent  in  u\e 
latter  part  of  Autumn:  whence  a digression,  inquire 
ihginto  the  rise  of  fountains  and  rivers.  Birds  of 
season  considered,  that  now  shift  their  habitation. 
The  prodigious  number  of  them  that  cover  the  north- 
ern and  western  isles  of  Scotland.  Hence  a view 
of  the  country.  A prospect  of  the  discoloured,  fad- 
ing woods.  After  a geiitle  dusky  day,  moonlight. 
Autumnal  meteors.  Morning:  to  which  succeeds  hi 
calm,  pure,  sunshiny  day,  such  as  usually  shuts  up 
the  season.  The  harvest  being  gathered  in,  the  coun- 
try dissolved  in  joy.  The  whole  concludes  with  a 
fanegyrk  on  a philosophical  country  life 


AUTUMN 


CkOWN’D  with  the  sickle  and  the  v/heaten  sheaf, 
While  Autumn,  nodding  o’er  the  yellow  plain, 
Comes  jovial  on  ; the  Doric  reed  once  more, 
Well-pleased,  I tuni;,  Whate’er  the  wintry  frost 
Nitrous  prepar’d ; the  various- blossom’d  Spring 
Put  in  white  promise  forth;  and  Summer-suns 
Concocted  strong,  rush  boundless  now  to  view  ; 
Full,  perfect  all,  and  swell  my  glorious  theme. 

Onslow  ! the  Muse,  ambitious  of  thy  name, 

To  grace,  inspire,  and  dignify  her  song. 

Would  from  the  public  voice  thy  gentle  ear 
AVvhile  engage.  Thy  noble  cares  she  knows, 

The  patriot  virtues  that  distend  thy  thought, 

Spread  on  thy  f ront;  and  in  tliy  bosom  glow. 

While  listeiiing  senates  hang  upon  thy  tongue  ; 
Devolvingthrough  tlie  maze  of  eloquence 
A roll  of  periods,  sweeter  than  her  song. 

But  she  too  pants  for  public  virtue  ; she, 

Though  weak  of  power,  yet  strong  in  ardent  w ill, 
Whene’er  her  country  rushes  on  her  heart, 

Assumes  a bolder  note ; and  fondly  tries 
To  mix  the  patriot’s  with  the  poet’s  flame. 


131 


AUTUMN. 


Wlien  the  bright  Virgin  gives  the  beauteous  days. 
And  Libra  weighs  in  equal  scales  the  year ; 

From  heaven’s  high  cope  the  fierce  effulgence  shook 
Of  parting  Summer,  a serener  blue, 

With  golden  light  enliven’d,  wide  invests 
'1  he  happy  world.  Attemper’d  suns  arise, 
Sweet-beam’d  and  shedding  oft  through  lucid  clouds 
A pleasing  calm  ; while  broad,  and  brown,  below 
Kxtensive  harvests  hang  the  heavy  head. 

Rich,  silent,  deep,  they  stand  ; for  not  a gale 
Rolls  its  light  billows  o’er  the  bending  plain : 

A calm  of  plenty  ! till  the  rufiled  air 

Falls  from  its  poise,  and  gives  thr  breeze  to  blow. 

Kent  is  the  fleecy  mantle  of  the  sky  ; 

The  clouds  fly  different ; and  the  sudden  sun 
By  fits  effulgent  gilds  th’  illumin’d  field, 

And  black  by  fits  the  shadows  sweep  along. 

A gaily-chequer’d  heart-expanding  view, 

Far  as  the  circling  eye  can  shoot  around, 

Unbounded  tossing  in  a flood  of  corn. 

These  are  thy  blessings.  Industry  I rough  power ! 
Whom  labour  still  attends,  and  sweat,  and  pain  ; 

Yet  the  kind  source  of  every  gentle  art. 

And  all  the  soft  civility  of  life  : 

Raiser  of  humankind  ! by  Nature  cast, 

Naked  and  helpless,  out  amid  the  woods 
And  wilds,  to  rude  inclement  elements  ; 

With  various  seeds  of  art  deep  in  the  mind 
Implanted,  and  profusely  pour’d  around 
Materials  infinite,  but  idle  all. 

Still  unexerted,  in  th’  unconscious  breast 


AUTUMN. 


135 


Slept  the  lethargic  powers;  Corruption  still, 
Voracious,  swallow’d  what  the  liberal  hand 
Of  bounty  scatter’(^  o’er  the  savage  year: 

And  still  the  sad  barbarian,  roving,  mix’d 
With  beasts  of  prey,  or  for  his  acorn*  meal 
Fought  the  fierce  tusky  boar;  a shivering  wretch! 
Aghast  and  comfortless,  when  the  bleak  north. 
With  winter  charg’d,  let  the  mixt  tempest  fly, 

Hail,  rain,  and  snow,  and  bitter-breathing  frost* 
Then  to  the  shelter  of  the  hut  he  fled ; 

And  the  wild  season,  sordid,  pin’d  away. 

For  home  he  had  not;  home  is  the  resort 
Of  love,  of  joy,  of  peace,  and  plenty,  where, 
Supporting  and  supported,  polish’d  friends, 

And  dear  relations,  mingle  into  bliss. 

But  this  the  rugged  savage  never  felt, 

E’en  desolate  in  crowds ; and  thus  his  days 
Koil’d  heavy,  dark,  and  unenjoy’d  along: 

A waste  of  time  ! till  Industry  approach’d, 

And  rous’d  him  from  his  miserable  sloth  ; 

His  faculties  unfolded  ; pointed  out, 

Where  lavish  Nature  the  directing  hand 
Of  Art  demanded!  show’d  him  how  to  raise 
His  feeble  force  by  the  mechanic  powers, 

To  . dig  the  mineral  from  the  vaulted  earth ; 

On  what  to  turn  the  piercing  rage  of  fire  ; 

On  what  the  torrent,  and  the  gather’d  blast ; 

Gave  the  tall  ancient  forest  to  his  axe  ; 

Taught  him  to  chip  the  wood,  and  hew  the  stone, 
Till  by  degrees  the  finish’d  fabric  rose; 
fore  from  his  limbs  the  blood-polluted  fur. 


136 


AUTUMN- 


And  wrapped  them  in  the  woollv  vestment  wann  ; 

Or  bright  in  glossy  silk,  and  flowing  lawn ; 

With  wholesome  viands  fill’d  his  table ; pour’d 
The  generous  glass  around,  inspir’d  to  wake 
The  life-refining  soul  of  decent  wit ; 

Nor  stopp’d  at  barren  bare  necessity; 

But  still  advancing  bolder,  led  him  on 
To  pomp,  to  pleasure,  elegance,  and  grace ; 

And,  breathing  high  ambition  through  his  soul, 

Set  science,  wisdom,  glory  in  his  view, 

And  bade  him  be  the  Lord  of  all  below.  [bin’d. 
Then  gathering  men  their  natural  powers  com- 
And  form’d  a public  ; to  the  general  good 
Submitting,  aiming,  and  conducting  all. 

For  this  the  Patriot-Council  met,  the  full. 

The  free,  and  fairly  represented  Whole  ; 

For  this  they  plann’d  the  holy  guardian  laws, 
Distinguish’d  orders,  animated  arts. 

And  with  joint  force  Oppression  chaining,  set 
Imperial  Justice  at  the  helm  ; yet  still 
To  them  accountable;  nor  slavish  dream’d 
That  toiling  millions  must  resign  their  weal, 

And  all  the  honey  of  their  search,  to  such 
As  for  themselves  alone  themselves  have  rais’d. 
Hence  every  form  of  cultivated  life 
In  order  set,  protected,  and  inspir’d, 

Into  perfection  wrought.  Uniting  all. 

Society  grew  numerous,  high,  polite. 

And  happy.  Nurse  of  art!  the  city  rear’d 
In  beauteous  pride  her  tower-encircled  head  ; 

And,  stretching  street  on  street,  by  thousands  drew. 


AUTUMN, 


137 


From  twining  woody  haunts,  or  the  tough  yew 
To  bows  strong-straining,  her  aspiring  sons. 

Then  Commerce  brought  into  the  public  walk 
The  busy  merchant;  the  big  warehouse  built ; 

Kais’d  the  strong  crane  ; chok’d  up  the  loaded  street 
With  foreign  plenty;  and  thy  stream,  0 Thames, 
Large,  gentle,  deep,  majestic,  king  of  floods! 

Chose  for  his  grand  resort.  On  either  hand. 

Like  a long  wintry  forest,  groves  of  masts 
Shot  up  their  spires;  the  bellying  sheet  between 
Possess’d  the  breezy  void  ; the  sooty  hulk 
Steer’d  sluggish  on ; the  splendid  barge  along 
Row’d,  regular,  to  harmony;  around. 

The  boat,  light  skimming,  stretch’d  its  oary  wings. 
While  deep  the  various  voice  of  fervent  toil 
From  bank  to  bank  increas’d:  whence  ribb’d  witli 
To  bear  the  British  thunder,  black,  and  bold,  [oak, 
The  roaring  vessel  rush’d  into  the  main. 

Then,  too,  the  pillar’d  dome,  magnific,  heav’d 
Its  ample  roof;'' and  Luxury  within 
Pour’d  out  her  glitt’ring  stores:  the  canvass  smooth, 
W ith  glowinglife  protuberant,  to  the  view 
Embodied  rose;  the  statue  seem’d  to  breathe. 

And  soften  into  flesh  ; beneath  the  touch 
Of  forming  art,  imagination  flushed. 

All  is  the  gift  of  Industry ; whate’er 
Exalts,  embellishes,  and  renders  life 
Delightful.  Pensive  W^inter  cheer’d  by  him 
Sits  at  the  social  fire,  and  happy  hears 
Th’  excluded  tempest  idly  rave  along; 

His  harden’d  fingers  deck  the  gaudy  Spring; 

M 2 


13S 


AUTUMN, 


Without  him  Summer  were  an  arid  waste , 

Nor  to  th’  Autumnal  months  could  thus  transmit 
Those  full,  mature,  immeasurable  stores. 

That,  waving  round,  recall  my  wandering  song. 

Soon  as  the  morning  trembles  o’er  the  sky. 
And,  unperceiv’d,  unfolds  the  spreading  day; 
Before  the  ripen’d  field  the  reapers  stand, 
hi  fair  array;  each  by  the  lass  he  loves; 

To  bear  the  rougher  part,  and  mitigate 
By  nameless  gentle  offices  her  toil. 

At  once  they  stoop  and  swell  the  lusty  sheaves ; 
While  through  their  cheerful  band,  the  rural  talk, 
The  rural  scandal,  and  the  rural  jest. 

Fly  harmless  ; to  deceive  the  tedious  time. 

And  steal  unfelt  the  sultry  hours  away. 

Belund  the  master  walks,  builds  up  the  shocks  ; 
And,  conscious,  glancing  oft  on  everj^  side 
His  sated  eye,  feels  his  heart  heave  with  joy. 

The  gleaners  spread  around,  and  here  and  there. 
Spike  after  spike  their  scanty  harvest  pick. 

Be  not  too  narrow,  husbandmen ! but  fling 
From  the  full  sheaf,  with  charitable  stealth. 

The  liberal  handful.  Think,  oh  ! grateful  think! 

1 low  good  the  God  of  harvest  is  to  you  ; 

Who  pours  abundance  o’er  your  flowing  fields; 
While  these  unhappy  partners  of  your  kind 
Wide-hover  round  you,  like  the  fowls  of  heaven, 
And  ask  their  humble  dole.  The  various  turns 
Of  fortune  ponder;  that  your  sons  may  want 
What  now’,  w iih  hard  reluctance,  faint,  ye  give. 
'The  lovely  young  Lavinia  once  had  friends. 


AUTUMN, 


13S 


^nd  Fortune  smil’d,  deceitful,  on  her  birth. 

F or,  in  her  helpless  years  depriv’d  of  all, 

Of  every  stay,  save  Innocence  and  Heaven, 

She,  with  her  widow’d  mother,  feeble,  old, 

And  poor,  liv’d  in  a cottage,  far  retir’d 
Among  the  windings  of  a woody  vale ; 

By  solitude  and  deep  surrounding  shades. 

But  more  by  bashful  modesty  conceal’d. 

Together  thus  they  shunn’d  the  cruel  scorn 
Which  virtue,  sunk  to  poverty,  would  meet 
From  giddy  passion  and  low-minded  pride  ; 

Almost  on  Nature’s  common  bounty  fed ; 

Like  the  gay  birds  that  sung  them  to  repose. 
Content,  and  careless  of  to-morrow’s  fare. 

Her  form  was  fresher  than  the  morning  rose. 

When  the  dew  wets  its  leaves  ) unstain’d,  and  pure, 
As  is  the  lily,  or  the  mountain  snow. 

The  modest  Virtues  mingled  in  her  eyes. 

Still  on  the  ground  dejected,  darting  all 
Their  humid  beams  into  the  blooming  flowers: 

Or  #hen  the  mournful  tale  her  mother  told, 

Of  what  her  faithless  fortune  promis’d  once. 
Thrill’d  in  her  thought,  they  like  the  dewy  star 
Of  evening,  shone  in  tears.  A native  grace 
Sat  fair  proportion’d  on  her  polish’d  limbs. 

Veil’d  in  a simple  robe,  their  best  attire. 

Beyond  the  pomp  of  dress;  for  loveliness 
Needs  not  the  foreign  aid  of  ornament. 

But  is,  when  unadorn’d,  adorn’d  the  most. 
Thoughtless  of  beauty,  she  was  Beauty’s  self. 
Recluse  amid  the  close-embowering  woods. 


140 


AUTUMN. 


As  in  the  hollow  breast  of  Appeniiie, 

Beneath  the  shelter  of  encircling  hills, 

A myrtle  rises  far  from  human  eye, 

And  breathes  its  balmy  fragrance  o’er  the  wild ; 
So  flourish’d  blooming,  and  unseen  by  all. 

The  sweet  Lavinia;  till,  at  length,  corapell’d 
By  strong  Necessity’s  supreme  command. 

With  smiling  patience  in  her  looks,  she  went 
To  glean  Palemon’s  fields.  The  pride  of  swains 
Palemon  was,  the  generous,  and  the  rich ; 

Who  led  the  rural  life  in  all  its  joy 
And  elegance,  such  as  Arcadian  song 
Transmits  from  ancient  uncorrupted  times  ; 
When  tyrant  custom  had  not  shackled  man. 

But  free  to  follow  Nature  was  the  mode. 

He  then,  his  fancy  with  autumnal  scenes 
Amusing,  chanc’d  beside  his  reaper-train 
To  walk,  when  poor  Lavinia  drew  his  eye ; 
Unconscious  of  her  power,  and  turning  quick 
With  unaffected  blushes  from  his  gaze  : 

He  saw  her  charming,  but  he  saw  not  half 
The  charms  her  downcast  modesty  conceal’d. 
That  very  moment  love  and  chaste  desire 
Sprung  in  his  bosom,  to  himself  unknown  ; 

For  still  the  world  prevail’d,  aud  its  dread  laugh, 
Which  scarce  the  firm  philosopher  can  scorn, 
Should  his  heart  own  a gleaner  in  the  field  ; 

And  thus  in  secret  to  his  soul  he  sigh’d  ; — 
WTiatpity!  that  so  delicate  a form. 

By  beauty  kindled,  where  enlivening  sense 
And  more  than  vulgar  goodness  seem  to  dwell, 


AUTUMN. 


141 


Should  be  devoted  to  the  rude  embrace 
Of  some  indecent  clown  ! she  looks,  raethinks, 

Of  old  Acasto’s  line  ; and  to  my  mind 
Recalls  that  patron  of  my  happy  life, 

From  whom  my  liberal  fortune  took  its  rise  ; 

Now  to  the  diist  gone  down  ; his  houses,  lands. 

And  once  fair-spreading  family,  dissolv’d. 

’4'is  said,  that  in  some  lone  obscure  retreat. 

Urg’d  by  remembrance  sad,  and  decent  pride. 

Far  from  those  scenes  which  knew  their  better  days, 
His  aged  v/idow  and  his  daughter  live. 

Whom  yet  my  fruitless  search  could  never  find. 
Romantic  wish  ! would  this  the  daughter  werel 
When,  strict  inquiring,  from  herself  he  found 
She  was  the  same,  the  daughter  of  his  friend, 

Of  bountiful  Acasto  ; who  can  speak 

The  mingled  passions  that  surpris’d  his  heart, 

And  through  his  nerves  in  shivering  transport  ran  ? 
Then  blaz’d  his  smother’d  flame,  avow’d,  and  bold  ; 
And  as  he  view ’d  her,  ardent,  o’er  and  o’er, 

Lovll,  gratitude,  and  pity  wept  at  once. 

Confus’d,  and  frighten’d  at  his  sudden  tears, 

Her  rising  beauties  flush’d  a higher  bloom, 

As  thus  Palemon,  passionate,  and  just. 

Pour’d  out  the  pious  rapture  of  his  soul : 

‘‘  And  art  thou  then  Acasto’s  dear  remains  ? 

She,  whom  my  restless  gratitude  has  sought, 

So  long  in  vain  ? 0 heavens  ! the  very  same. 

The  soften’d  image  of  my  noble  friend  ; 

Alive  his  every  look,  his  every  feature. 

More  elegantly  touch’d.  Sweeter  than  Spring ! 


142 


AUTUMN, 


Tbou  sole  surviving  blossom  from  the  root 
That  nourish’d  up  my  fortune  ! say,  ah  where, 
in  what  sequester’d  desert,  hast  thou  drawn 
The  kindest  aspect  of  delighted  heaven  ? 

Into  such  beauty  spread,  and  blown  so  fair  ; 

Though  Poverty’s  cold  wind,  and  crushing  rain, 

Beat  keen,  and  heavy,  on  thy  tender  years  ? 

O let  me  now,  into  a richer  soil, 

Transplant  thee  safe!  where  vernal  suns,  andshow<*^s, 
Diffuse  their  warmest,  largest  influence  ; 

And  of  my  garden  be  the  pride,  and  joy ! 

It  ill  befits  thee,  oh  I it  ill  beflts 
Acasto’s  daughter,  his,  whose  open  stores, 

Though  vast,  were  little  to  his  ampler  heart. 

The  father  of  a country,  thus  to  pick 
The  very  refuse  of  those  harvest-fields. 

Which  from  his  bounteous  friendship  I enjoy. 

Then  throw  that  shameful  pittance  from  thy  hand 
But  ill  applied  to  such  a rugged  task  ; 

The  fields,  the  master,  all,  my  fair,  are  thine ; 

If  to  the  various  blessings  v/hich  thy  house 
Has  on  me  lavish’d,  thou  wilt  add  that  bliss, 

That  dearest  bliss,  the  power  of  blessing  thee 

Here  ceas’d  the  youth:  yet  still  his  speaking  cv  ^ 
Express’d  the  sacred  triumph  of  his  soul, 

With  conscious  virtue,  gratitude,  and  love, 

Above  the  vulgar  joy  divinely  rais’d. 

Nor  v/aited  he  reply.  Won  by  the  charm 

Of  goodness  irresistible,  and  all 

In  sweet  disorder  lost,  she  blush’d  consent. 

The  news  immediate  to  her  mother  brought, 


AUTUMN. 


UJ 

While,  pierc’d  with  anxious  thought,  she  pin’d  away 
The  lonely  moments  for  Lavinia’s  fate ; 

Amaz’d,  and  scarce  believing  what  she  heard, 

Joy  seiz’d  her  wither’d  veins,  and  one  bright  gleam 
Of  setting  life  shone  on  her  evening-hours : 

ISot  less  enraptur’d  than  the  happy  pair  ; 

Who  flourish’d  long  in  tender  bliss,  and  rear’d 
A numerous  offspring,  lovely  like  themselves  ; 

And  good,  the  grace  of  all  the  country  round. 

Defeating  oft  the  labours  of  the  year, 

The  sultry  south  collects  a potent  blast. 

At  first  the  groves  are  scarcely  seen  to  stir 
Their  trembling  tops  ; and  a still  murmur  runs 
Along  the  soft  inclining  fields  of  corn. 

But  as  th’  aerial  tempest  fuller  swells. 

And  in  one  mighty  stream,  invisible. 

Immense,  the  whole  excited  atmosphere. 

Impetuous  rushes,  o’er  the  sounding  world  ; 

Strain’d  to  the  root,  the  stooping  forest  pours 
A rustling  shower  of  yet  untimely  leaves. 

High-beat,  the  circling  mountains  eddy  in, 

From  the  hare  wild,  the  dissipated  storm. 

And  send  it  in  a torrent  down  the  vale. 

Expos’d,  and  naked,  to  its  utmost  rage, 

Through  all  the  sea  of  harvest  rolling  round, 

The  billowy  plain  floats  wide  ; nor  can  evade, 
Though  pl'ant  to  the  blast,  its  seizing  force  ; 

Or  whirl’d  m air,  or  in.to  vacant  chaff 
Shook  waste.  And  sometinu>s  too  a burst  of  rain. 
Swept  from  the  black  horizon,  broad,  descends 
In  one  continuous  flood.  Still  over  head 


144 


AUTUMN, 


The  mingling  tempest  weaves  its  gloom,  and  still 
The  deluge  deepens ; till  the  fields  around 
Lie  sunk,  and  flatted,  in  the  sordid  wave. 

Sudden,  the  ditches  swell ; the  meadows  swim. 
Ked,  from  the  hills,  innumerable  streams 
Tumultuous  roar  ; and  high  above  its  banks 
The  river  lift ; before  whose  rushing  tide. 

Herds,  flocks,  and  harvests,  cottages,  and  swams, 
Roll  mingled  down  ; all  that  the  winds  had  spared 
In  one  wild  moment  ruin’d  ; the  big  hopes, 

And  well-earn’d  treasures  of  the  painful  year. 

Fled  to  some  eminence,  the  husbandman. 
Helpless,  beholds  the  miserable  wreck 
Driving  along ; his  drowning  ox  at  once 
Descending,  with  his  labours  scatter’d  round, 

He  sees  ; and  instant  o’er  his  shivering  thought 
Comes  Winter  unprovided,  and  a train 
Of  claimant  children  dear.  Ye  masters,  then, 

Be  mindful  of  the  rough  laborious  hand 
That  sinks  you  soft  in  elegance  and  ease ; 

Be  mindful  of  those  limbs  in  russet  clad. 

Whose  toil  to  yours  is  warmth  and  graceful  pride  ; 
f^nd,  oh  ! be  mindful  of  that  sparing  board, 
fV'hich  covers  yours  with  luxury  profuse ; 

Makes  your  glass  sparkle,  and  your  sense  rejoice  •, 
Nor  cruelly  demand  what  the  deep  rains. 

And  all-involving  winds,  have  swept  away. 

Here  the  rude  clamour  of  the  sportsman’s  joy, 
The  gun  fast  thundering,  and  the  winded  horn, 
Would  tempt  the  Mus-e  to  sing  the  rural  game  : 
How  in  his  mid-career,  the  spaniel  struck, 


AUTUMN. 


4d. 

Stiff,  by  the  tainted  gale,  with  open  nose, 
Outstretch’d,  and  finely  sensible,  draws  full, 

Fearful,  and  cautious,  on  the  latent  prey 
As  in  the  sun  the  circling  covey  bask 
Their  varied  plumes,  and  watchful  every  way, 
Through  the  rough  stubble  turn  the  secret  eye. 

Caught  in  the  meshy  snare,  in  vain  they  beat 
Their  idle  wings,  entangled  more  and  more  : 

Nor  on  the  surges  of  the  boundless  air, 

Though  borne  triumphant,  are  they  safe  ; the  gun, 
Glanc’d  just,  and  sudden,  from  the  fowler’s  eye 
O’ertakcs  their  sounding  pinions  : and  again, 
Immediate  brings  them  from  the  towering  wing. 

Dead  to  the  ground  ; or  drives  them  wide-dispers’d 
Wounded,  and  wheeling  various,  down  the  w ind. 

These  are  not  subjects  for  the  peaceful  Muse, 

Nor  will  she  stain  with  such  her  spotless  song  : 

Then  most  delighted,  when  she  social  sees 
The  whole  mix’d  animal-creation  round 
Alive,  and  happy.  ’Tis  not  joy  to  her. 

This  falsely-cheerful  barbarous  game  of  death, 

This  rage  of  pleasure,  which  the  restless  youiii 
Awakes,  impatient  with  the  gleaming  morn  ; 

When  beasts  of  prey  retire,  that  all  night  long, 

Urg’d  by  necessity,  had  rang’d  the  dark. 

As  if  their  conscious  ravage  shunn'd  the  light, 
Asham'd.  Not  so  the  steady  tyrant  Man, 

Who  with  the  thoughtless  innocence  of  powder 
Inflamed,  beyond  the  most  infuriate  wrath 
Of  the  woist  monster  that  e’er  roamed  the  waste, 

For  sport  alone  pursues  the  cruel  chase, 
id  H 


146 


A\.TUMN. 


Amid  the  beaming’s  of  the  gentle  days. 

Upbraid,  ye  ravening  tribes,  our  wanton  rage. 
For  hunger  kindles  you,  and  law  less  want ; 

But  lavish  fed,  in  Nature’s  bounty  rolled, 

To  joy  at  anguish,  and  delight  in  blood, 

Is  what  your  liorrid  bosoms  never  knew. 

Poor  is  the  triumph  o’er  the  timid  hare ! 

Scar’d  from  the  corn,  and  now  to  some  lone  seat 
Retir'd:  the  rushy  fen;  the  ragged  furze. 
Stretch’d  o’er  the  stony  heath;  the  stubble  cliapt 
The  thistly  lawn ; the  thick  entangled  broom ; 

Of  the  same  friendly  hue,  the  wither’d  fern ; 

The  tallow  ground  laid  open  to  the  sun, 
Concoctive;  and  the  nodding  sandy  bank. 

Hung  o’er  the  mazes  of  the  mountain  brook. 

Vain  is  her  best  precaution ; though  she  sits 
Conceal’d  with  folded  ears  ; unsleeping  eyes, 

By  nature  rais’d  to  take  th’  horizon  in ; 

And  head  couch’d  close  betwixt  her  hairy  feet, 
in  act  to  spring  away.  The  scented  dew 
Betrays  her  early  labyrinth ; and  deep, 
in  scatter’d  sullen  openings,  far  behind, 

With  every  breeze  she  hears  the  coming  storm* 
But  nearer,  and  more  frequent,  as  it  loads 
The  sighing  gale,  she  springs  amaz’d,  and  all 
The  savage  soul  of  game  is  up  at  once* 

The  pack  full-opening,  various;  the  shrill  horn, 
Resounded  from  the  hills ; the  neighing  steed, 
Wild  for  the  chase;  and  the  loud  hunter’s  shout; 
O’er  a weak,  harmless,  flying  creature,  all 
Mix’d  in  mad  tumult,  and  discordantjoy. 


AUTUMN, 


\4 


The  stag’,  too,  singled  from  the  hei'd,  where  long 
He  rang’d  the  branching  monarch  of  the  shades, 
Before  the  tempest  drives.  At  first  in  speed 
He,  sprightly,  puts  his  faith  . and  rous’d  by  fear, 
Gives  all  his  swift  aerial  soul  to  flight ; 

Against  the  breeze  he  darts,  that  way  the  more 
To  leave  the  lessening  murderous  cry  behind  : 
Deception  short!  though  fleeter  than  the  winds 
Blown  o’er  the  keen-air’d  mountain  by  the  north, 
He  bursts  the  thickets,  glances  through  the  glades, 
And  plunges  deep  into  the  wildest  wood ; 

H slow,  yet  sure,  adhesive  to  the  track, 

Hot  steaming,  up  behind  him  come  again 
Th’  inhuman  rout,  and  from  the  shady  depth 
Expel  him,  circling  through  his  every  shift. 

He  sweeps  the  forest  oft;  and  sobbing  sees 
The  glades,  mild  opening  to  the  golden  day ; 
Where,  in  kind  contest,  with  his  butting  friends 
He  wont  to  struggle,  or  his  loves  enjoy. 

Oft  in  the  full-descending  flood  he  tries 
To  lose  the  scent,  and  lave  his  burning  sides. 

Oft  seeks  the  herd ; the  watchful  herd,  alarm’d, 
With  selfish  care  avoid  a brother’s  wo. 

What  shall  he  do.^  His  once  so  vivid  nerves, 

So  full  of  buoyant  spirit,  now  no  more 
Inspire  the  course ; but  fainting  breathless  toil, 
Sick,  seizes  on  his  heart:  he  stands  at  bay; 

And  puts  his  last  weak  refuge  in  despair. 

The  big  round  tears  run  down  his  dappled  face ; 
He  groans  in  anguish ; while  the  growling  pack, 
Blood-happy,  hang  at  his  fair  jutting  chest, 


148 


AUTUMN. 


And  mark  his  beauteous  chequer’d  sides  svitii  gore. 
Of  this  enough.  But  if  the  sylvan  youth, 

Whose  fervent  blood  boils  into  violence, 

Must  have  the  chase;  behold,  despising  fbght, 

The  rous’d-up  lion,  resolute,  and  slow. 

Advancing  full  on  the  protended  spear. 

And  coward-band,  that  circling  wheel  aloof 
Slunk  from  the  cavern,  and  the  troubled  wood, 

See  the  grim  wolf;  on  him  his  shaggy  foe 
Vindictive  fix,  and  let  the  ruffitin  die; 

Or,  grow  ling  horrid,  as  the  brindled  boar 
Grins  fell  destruction,  to  the  monster’s  heart 
Let  the  dart  lighten  from  the  nervous  arm. 

These  Britain  knows  not;  give,  ye  Britons,  ther 
Your  sportive  fury,  pityless,  to  pour 
Loose  on  the  nightly  robber  of  the  fold ; 

Him,  from  his  craggy  winding  haunts  unearth’d. 
Let  all  the  thunder  of  the  chase  pursue. 

Throw  the  broad  ditch  behind  you;  o’er  the  hedge 
High-bound,  resistless  ; nor  tlie  deep  morass 
Refuse,  but  through  the  shaking  wilderness 
Pick  your  nice  way;  into  the  perilous  flood 
Bear  fearless,  of  the  raging  instinct  full; 

And  as  you  ride  the  torrent,  to  the  banks 
Your  triumph  sound  sonorous,  running  round, 

Prom  rock  to  rock,  in  circling  echoes  tost; 

Then  scale  the  mountains  to  their  woody  tops; 

Rush  dow  n the  dangerotis  steep ; and  o’er  the  lawn, 
In  fancy  swallowing  up  the  space  between. 

Pour  all  your  speed  into  the  rapid  game. 

Ft  r happy  he ! who  tops  the  wheeling  chase ; 


AUTUMN. 


149 


Has  every  maze  evolv’d,  aifid  every  glide 
Disclos’d;  who  knows  the  merits  of  the  pack; 

Who  saw  the  villain  seiz'd  and  dying  hard, 

Without  complaint,  though  by  a hundred  mouths 
Relentless  torn : O glorious  he,  beyond 
His  daring  peers ! when  the  retreating  horn 
Calls  them  to  ghostly  halls  of  gr^  renown, 

With  woodland  honours  grac’d;  the  fox’s  fur, 
Depending  decent  from  the  roof ; and  spread 
Round  the  drear  walls,  with  antic  figures  fierce. 
The  stag’s  large  front : he  then  is  loudest  heard, 
Whtm  the  night  staggers  with  severer  toils ; 

With  feats  Thessalian  Centaurs  never  knew. 

And  their  repeated  wonders  shake  the  dome. 

But  first  the  fuell’d  chimney  blazes  wide; 

The  tankards  foam  : and  the  strong  table  groans 
Beneath  the  smoking  sirloin,  stretch’d  immense 
From  side  to  side;  in  which,  with  desperate  knife, 
They  deep  incision  make,  and  talk  the  while 
Of  England’s  glory,  ne’er  to  be  defac’d, 

While  hence  they  borrow  vigour,  or  amain 
Into  the  pasty  plung’d,  at  intervals. 

If  stomach  keen  can  intervals  allow. 

Relating  all  the  glories  of  the  chase. 

Then  sated  Hunger  bids  his  brother  Thirst 
Produce  the  mighty  bowl;  the  mighty  bowl, 
Swell’d  high  with  fiery  juice,  steams  liberal  round 
A potent  gale;  delicious,  as  the  breath 
Of  Maia  to  the  love-sick  shepherdess. 

On  violets  diffus’d  ; while  soft  she  hears 
Her  panting  shepherd  stealing  to  her  arms. 

N 2' 


150 


AUTUMN, 


Nor  wanting  is  the  brown  October,  drawn, 

Mature  and  perfect,  from  his  dark  retreat 
Of  thirty  years ; and  now  his  honest  front 
Flames  in  the  light  refulgent,  not  afraid 
E’en  with  the  vineyard’s  best  produce  to  vie. 

To  cheat  the  thirsty  moments.  Whist  awhile 
Walks  his  dull  round,  beneath  a cloud  of  smoke, 
Wreath’d,  fragrant,  from  the  pipe ; or  the  quick  dice, 
In  thunder  leaping  from  the  box,  awake 
The  sounding  gammon  ; while  romp-loving  miss 
Is  haul’d  about,  in  gallantry  robust. 

At  last  these  puling  idlenesses  laid 
Aside,  frequent  and  full,  the  dry  divan 
Close  in  firm  circle;  and  set,  ardent,  in 
For  serious  drinking.  Nor  evasion  sly, 

Nor  sober  shift,  is  to  the  puking  wretch 
Indulg’d  apart;  but  earnest,  brimming  bowls 
Lave  every  soul,  the  table  floating  round. 

And  pavement,  faithless  to  the  fuddled  foot. 

Thus  as  they  swim  in  mutual  swill,  the  talk, 
Vociferous  at  once  from  twenty  tongues. 

Reels  fast  from  theme  to  theme;  from  horses,  hounds, 
To  church  or  mistress,  politics  or  ghost. 

In  endless  mazes,  intricate,  perplex’d. 

Meantime,  with  sudden  interruption,  loud, 

Th’  impatient  catch  bursts  from  the  joyous  heart ; 
That  moment  touch’d  is  every  kindred  soul; 

And,  opening  in  a full-mouth’d  cry  of  joy. 

The  laugh,  the  slap,  the  jocund  curse  go  round ; 
While,  from  their  slumbers  shook,  the  kennerd  hounds 
Mix  in  the  music  of  the  day  again. 


AUTUMN. 


15^. 


As  when  the  tempest,  that  has  vex’d  the  deep 
The  dark  night  long,  with  fainter  murmurs  falls  ; 

So  gradual  sinks  their  mirth.  Their  feeble  tongues, 
Unable  to  take  up  the  cumbrous  word. 

Lie  quite  dissolv’d.  Before  their  maudlin  eyes 
Seem  dim,  and  blue,  the  double  tapers  dance, 

Like  the  sun  wading  through  the  misty  sky. 

Then,  sliding  soft,  they  drop.  Confus’d  above. 
Glasses  and  bottles,  pipes  and  gazetteers. 

As  if  the  table  e’en  itself  was  drunk, 

Lie  a wet  broken  scene ; and  wide,  below, 

Is  heap’d  the  social  slaughter : where  astride 
'J'he  lubber  Powder  in  filthy  triumph  sits, 

Slumbrous,  inclining  still  from  side  to  side. 

And  steeps  them  drench’d  in  potent  sleep  till  morn. 
Perhaps  some  doctor  of  tremendous  paunch. 

Awful  and  deep,  a black  abyss  of  drink. 

Outlives  them  all ; and  from  his  buried  flock 
Retiring,  full  of  rumination  sad, 

Laments  the  weakness  of  these  latter  times. 

But  if  the  rougher  sex  by  this  fierce  spoil 
Is  hurried  wild,  let  not  such  horrid  joy 
E’er  stain  the  bosom  of  the  British  fair. 

Far  be  the  spirit  of  the  chase  from  them! 

Uncomely  courage,  unbeseeming  skill; 

To  spring  the  fence,  to  rein  the  prancing  steert ; 

The  cap,  the  whip,  the  masculine  attire. 

In  which  they  roughen  to  the  sense,  and  all 
The  winning  softness  of  their  sex  is  lost. 

In  them  his  graceful  to  dissolve  at  wo; 

With  every  motion,  every  word,  to  wave 


152 


AUTUMN. 


Quick  o’er  the  kindling-  cheek  the  ready  blush; 
And  from  the  smallest  violence  to  shrink 
Unequal,  then  the  loveliest  in  their  fears, 

And  by  this  silent  adulation,  soft, 

To  their  protection  more  eng^aging- Man. 

0 may  their  eyes  no  miserable  sight, 

Save  weeping  lovers,  see  ; a nobler  game, 

Through  love’s  enchanting  wiles  pursued,  yet  fled. 
In  chase  ambiguous.  May  their  tender  limbs 
Float  in  the  loose  simplicity  of  dress ; 

And,  fashion’d  all  to  harmony,  alone 
Know  they  to  seize  the  captivated  soul. 

In  rapture  warbled  from  love-breathing  lips  ; 

To  leach  the  lute  to  languish;  with  smooth  step, 
Disclosing  motion  in  its  every  charm. 

To  swim  along,  and  swell  the  mazy  dance  , 

To  train  the  foliage  o’er  the  snowy  lawn ; 

To  guide  the  pencil,  turn  the  tuneful  page  , 

To  lend  new  flavour  to  the  fruitful  year. 

And  heighten  Nature’s  dainties;  in  their  race 
'Fo  rear  their  graces  into  second  life;  , 

To  give  society  its  highest  taste; 

Well-order’d  home,  man’s  best  delight  to  make. 
And  by  submissive  wisdom,  modest  skill, 

With  every  gentle  care-eluding  art. 

To  raise  the  virtues,  animate  the  bliss. 

And  sweeten  all  the  toils  of  human  life  : 

This  be  the  female  dignity,  and  praise. 

Ye  swains,  now  hasten  to  the  hazel-bank; 
Where,  down  yon  dale,  the  wildly-winding  brook 
Falls  hoarse  from  steep  to  strep.  In  close  array- 


AUTUMN. 


J53 


Fit  for  the  thickets  and  the  tangling-  shrub, 

Ye  virgins  come.  For  you  their  latest  song 
The  woodlands  raise  ; the  clustering  nuts  for  you 
The  lover  finds  amid  the  secret  shade ; 

And,  where  they  burnish  on  the  topmost  bough, 
With  active  vigour  crushes  down  the  tiee  ; 

Or  shakes  them  ripe  from  the  resigning  husk, 

A glossy  shower,  and  of  an  ardent  brown, 

As  are  the  ringlets  of  Melinda’s  hair : 

Melinda ! form’d  with  every  grace  complete 
Yet  these  neglecting,  above  beauty  wise. 

And  far  transcending  such  a vulgar  praise 
Hence  from  the  busy  joy -resounding  fields, 

In  cheerful  error,  let  us  tread  the  maze 
Of  Autumn,  unconfin’d ; and  taste,  reviv’d. 

The  breath  of  orchard  big  with  bending  fruit. 
Obedient  to  the  breeze  and  beating  ray, 

F rom  the  deep-loaded  bough  a mellow  shower 
Incessant  melts  away.  The  juicy  pear 
Lies,  in  a soft  profusion,  scatter’d  round. 

A various  sweetness  swells  the  gentle  race ; 

By  Nature’s  all-refining  hand  prepar’d; 

Of  temper’d  sun,  and  water,  earth,  aiK^  air, 

In  ever-changing  composition  mix’d. 

Such,  falling  frequent  through  the  chiller  night, 
The  fragrant  stores,  the  wide  projected  heaps 
Of  apples,  which  the  lusty  handed  Year, 
Innumerous,  o’er  the  blushing  orchard  shakes 
A various  spirit,  fresh,  delicious,  keen. 

Dwells  in  their  gelid  pores;  and,  active,  points 
The  piercing  cider  for  the  thirsty  tongue  : 


154 


AUTUMN. 


Thy  native  theme,  and  boon  inspirer  too, 

Phillips,  Pomona’s  bard!  the  second  thou 
Who  nobly  durst,  in  rhyme-unfetter’d  verse. 

With  British  freedom  sing  the  British  song : 

How,  from  Silurian  vats,  high-sparkling  wines 
Foam  in  transparent  floods;  some  strong,  to  cheer 
The  wintry  revels  of  the  labouring  hind ; 

And  tasteful  some,  to  cool  the  summer  hours. 

In  this  glad  season,  while  his  sweetest  beams 
The  sun  sheds  equal  o’er  the  meeken’d  day; 

Oh  lose  me  in  the  green  delightful  walks 
Of,  Dodington,  thy  seat,  serene  and  plain  ; 

W^here  simple  Nature  reigns;  and  every  view, 
Diffusive,  spreads  the  pure  Dor^etian  downs, 

In  boundless  prospect;  yonder  shagg’d  with  wood, 
Here  rich  with  harvest,  and  there  white  witli  flocks  ! 
Meantime  the  grandeur  of  thy  lofty  dome. 
Far-splendid,  seizes  on  the  ravish’d  eye. 

New  beauties  rise  with  each  revolving  day ; 

New  columns  swell ; and  still  the  fresh  Spring  finds 
New  plants  to  quicken,  and  new  groves  to  green. 

Full  of  thy  genius  all ! the  Muse’s  seat: 

Where  in  the  secret  bower,  and  winding  walk, 

For  virtuous  Young  and  thee  they  twine  the  bay. 
Here  wandering  oTt,  fir’d  with  the  restless  thirst 
Of  thy  applause,  I solitary  court 
Th’  inspiring  breeze;  and  meditate  the  book 
Of  Nature  ever  open  ; aiming  thence. 

Warm  from  the  heart,  to  learn  the  moral  song. 

Here,  as  I steal  along  the  sunny  wall. 

Where  Autumn  basks,  with  fruit  empurpled  deep. 


AUTUMN 


155 


My  pleasing  theme  continual  prompts  my  thought 
Presents  the  downy  peach ; the  shining  plum; 

The  ruddy,  fragrant  nectarine  ; and  dark, 

Beneath  his  ample  leaf,  the  luscious  fig. 

The  vine  too  here  her  curling  tendrils  shoots  ; 

Hangs  out  her  clusters,  glowing  to  the  south  ; 

And  scarcely  wishes  for  a warmer  sky. 

Turn  we  a moment  Fancy’s  rapid  flight 
To  vigorous  soils,  and  climes  of  fair  extent; 

Where,  by  the  potent  sun  elated  high, 

The  vineyard  swells  refulgent  on  the  day  ; 

Spreads  o’er  the  vale  ; or  up  the  mountain  climbs, 
Profuse  ; and  drinks  amid  the  sunny  rocks. 

From  cliff  to  clifl* increas’d  the  heighten’d  blaze. 

Low  bend  the  weighty  boughs.  The  clusters  clear, 
Half  through  the  foliage  seen,  or  ardent  flame. 

Or  shine  transparent ; while  perfection  breathes 
White  o’er  the  turgent  film  the  living  dew. 

As  thus  they  brighten  with  exalted  juice, 

Touch'd  into  flavour  by  the  mingling  ray ; 

The  rural  youth  and  virgins  o’er  the  field. 

Each  fond  for  each  to  cull  th’  autumnal  prime. 
Exulting  rove  and  speak  the  vintage  nigh. 

Then  comes  the  crushing  swain  ; the  country  floats, 
And  foams  unbounded  with  the  mashy  flood ; 

That  by  degrees  fermented,  and  refin’d. 

Round  the  rais’d  nations  pours  the  cup  of  joy  : 

The  claret  smooth^  red  as  the  lip  we  press 
In  sparkling  fancy,  while  we  drain  the  bowl; 

The  mellow-tastcd  burgundy;  and  quick. 

As  is  the  wit  it  gives,  the  gay  champaign. 


156 


AUTUMN. 


Now,  by  the  cool  declining^  year  condens’d, 
Descend  the  copious  exhalations;  check'd 
As  up  the  middle  sky  unseen  they  stole; 

And  roll  the  doubling-  fog-s  around  the  hill. 

No  more  the  mountain,  horrid,  vast,  sublime, 
Who  pours  a sweep  cf  rivers  from  his  sides, 

And  high  between  contending  kingdoms  rears 
The  rocky  long  division,  fills  the  view 
“With  great  variety;  but  in  a night 
Of  gathering  vapour,  from  the  bafiled  sense 
Sinks  dark  and  dreary.  Thence  expanding  far, 
The  huge  dusk^  gradual,  swallows  up  the  plain ; 
Vanish  the  woods;  the  dim-seen  river  seems 
Sullen,  and  slow,  to  roll  the  misty  wave. 

E’en  in  the  height  of  noon  oppress’d,  the  sun 
Sheds  weak,  and  blunt  his  wide  refracted  ray; 
W’^hence  glaring  oft,  with  many  a broaden’d  orb, 
He  frights  the  nations.  Indistinct  on  earth, 

Seen  through  the  turbid  air,  beyond  the  life 
Objects  appear ; and,  wildered  o’er  the  waste 
The  shepherd  stalks  gigantic.  Till  at  last 
Wreath’d  dun  around,  in  deeper  circles  still 
Successive  closing,  sits  the  general  fog 
Unbounded  o’er  the  world  ; and,  mingling  thick, 
A formless  gray  confusion  covers  all. 

As  when  of  old  (so  sung  the  Hebrew  bard) 

Light,  uncollected,  through  the  chaos  urged 
Its  infant  way;  nor  Order  yet  had  drawn 
His  lovely  train  from  out  the  dubious  gloom. 

These  roving  mists,  that  constant  now  begin 
To  smoke  along  the  hilly  country,  these, 


AUTUMN. 


157 


With  weighty  rains,  and  melted  Alpine  snows, 

The  mountain-cisterns  fill,  those  ample  stores 
Of  water,  scoop’d  among  the  hollow  rocks  ; 

Whence  gush  the  streams,  the  ceaseless  fountains 
And  their  unfailing  wealth  the  rivers  draw.  [play, 
Some  sages  say,  that  where  the  numerous  wave 
For  ever  lashes  the  resounding  shore. 

Drill’d  through  the  sandy  stratum,  every  vvaj'. 

The  waters  with  the  sandy  stratum  rise; 

Amid  whose  angles  infinitely  strain’d. 

They  joyful  leave  their  jaggy  salts  behind. 

And  clear  and  sweeten,  as  they  soak  along. 

Nor  stops  the  restless  fluid,  mounting  still. 

Though  oft  amidst  th’  irriguous  vale  it  springs; 

But  to  the  mountain  courted  by  the  sand, 

Thcit  leads  it  darkling  on  in  faithful  maze. 

Far  from  the  parent-main,  it  boils  again 
Fresh  into  day;  and  all  the  glittering  hill 
Is  bright  with  spouting  rills.  But  hence  this  vain 
Amusing  dream  ! why  should  the  waters  love 
To  take  so  far  a journey  to  the  hills, 

W'^hen  the  sweet  valleys  offer  to  their  toil 
Inviting  quiet,  and  a nearer  bed.? 

Or  if,  by  blind  ambition  led  astray. 

They  must  aspire ; why  should  they  sudden  stop 
Among  the  broken  mountain’s  rushy  dells. 

And,  ere  they  gain  its  highest  peak,  desert 

Th’  attractive  sand  that  charm’d  their  course  so  long? 

Besides,  the  hard  agglomerating  salts. 

The  spoil  of  ages,  would  impervious  choke 
Their  secret  channels;  or,  by  slow  degrees, 
o 


153 


AUTUMN, 


High  as  the  hills  protrude  the  swelling  vales: 

Old  Ocean  too,  suck’d  through  the  porous  globe. 

Had  long  ere  now  forsook  his  horrid  bed, 

And  brought  Deucalion’s  watery  times  again. 

Say  then,  where  lurk  the  vast  eternal  springs, 
That,  like  creating  Nature,  lie  conceal’d 
From  mortal  eye,  yet  with  their  lavish  stores 
Refresh  the  globe,  and  all  its  joyous  tribes  ? 

O thou  pervading  Genius,  given  to  man, 

To  trace  the  secrets  of  the  dark  abyss  I 
O lay  the  mountains  bare  : and  wide  display 
Their  hidden  structure  to  th’  astonish’d  view; 

Strip  from  the  branching  Alps  their  piny  load ; 

The  huge  encumbrance  of  horrific  woods 
From  Asian  Taurus,  from  Imaus  stretch’d 
Athwart  the  roving  Tartar’s  sullen  bounds; 

Give  opening  Hemus  to  my  searching  eye, 

And  high  Olympus  pouring  many  a stream. 

0 from  the  sounding  summits  of  the  north. 

The  Dofrine  hills,  through  Scandinavia  roll’d 
To  furthest  Lapland  and  the  frozen  main; 

From  lofty  Caucasus,  far  seen  by  those 
Who  in  the  Caspian  and  black  Euxine  toil; 

From  cold  Riphean  rocks,  which  the  wild  Russ 
Believes  the  stony  girdle*  of  the  world : 

And  all  the  dreadful  mountains,  wrap’d  in  storm, 
Whence  wide  Siberia  draws  her  lonely  floods ; 

* The  Muscovites  call  the  Riphean  Mount ains  Weliki 
Camonypoys ; that  is,  the  great  stony  girdle : because 
they  suppose  them  to  encompass  the  whole  earth. 


AUTUMN. 


159 


0 sweep  th’  eternal  snows,  hung  o’er  the  deep, 

That  ever  works  beneath  his  sounding  base, 

Bid  Atlas,  propping  heaven,  as  poets  feign, 

His  subterranean  wonders  spread  ; unveil 
The  niiny  caverns,  blazing  on  the  day. 

Of  Abyssinia’s  cloud-compelling  cliffs. 

And  of  the  bending  Mountains  of  the  Moon  !* 
O’crtopping  all  these  giant  sons  of  earth. 

Let  the  dire  Andes,  from  the  radiant  line 
Stretch  d to  the  stormy  seas  that  thunder  round 
The  southern  pole,  their  hideous  deeps  unfold. 
Amazing  scene ! behold,  the  glooms  disclose, 

1 see  the  rivers  in  their  infant  beds; 

Deep,  deep,  I hear  them  labouring  to  get  free. 

1 see  the  leaning  strata  artful  rang’d; 

The  gaping  fissures  to  receive  the  rains. 

The  melting  SHOW'S,  and  ever-dripping  fogs. 

Strew’d  bibulous  above  I sec  the  sands. 

The  pebbly  gravel  next,  the  layers  then 
Of  mingled  moulds,  of  more  retentive  earths, 

The  gutter’d  rocks  and  mazy  running  clefts ; 

That  while  the  stealing  moisture  they  transmit, 
Retard  its  motion,  and  forbid  its  waste. 

Beneath  th’  incessant  weeping  of  these  drains, 

I see  the  rocky  siphons  stretch’d  immense ; 

The  mighty  reservoirs,  of  harden’d  chalk, 

Or  stiff  compacted  clay,  capacious  form’d. 
O’erflowing  thence,  the  congregated  stores, 

* range  of  mountains  in  Afr  ica^  that  surround  al- 
most all  Monomotapa. 


160 


AUTUMN. 


The  crystal  treasures  of  the  liquid  world, 

Through  the  stirr’d  sands  a bubbling  passage  burst. 
And  welling  out,  around  the  middle  steep, 

Or  from  the  bottoms  of  the  bosom’d  hills, 

In  pure  effusion  flow.  United,  thus, 

Th’  exhaling  sun,  the  vapour- burden’d  air. 

The  gelid  mountains,  that  to  rain  condens’d 
These  vapours  in  continual  current  draw, 

And  send  them,  o’er  the  fair-divided  earth, 

In  bounteous  rivers  to  the  deep  again; 

A social  commerce  hold,  and  firm  support 
The  full-adjusted  harmony  of  things. 

When  Autumn  scatters  his  departing  gleams, 
Warn’d  of  approaching  Winter,  gather’d,  play 
The  swallow-people  ; and  toss’d  wide  around, 

O’er  the  calm  sky,  in  convolution  swift. 

The  feather’d  eddy  floats : rejoicing  once. 

Ere  to  their  wintry  slumbers  they  retire ; 

In  clusters  clung  beneath  the  mouldering  bank. 

And  where,  unpierc’d  by  frost,  the  cavern  sweats 
Or  rather  into  warmer  climes  conveyed, 

With  other  kindred  birds  of  season,  there 
I'hey  twitter  cheerful,  till  the  vernal  months 
Invite  them  welcome  back : for,  thronging,  now 
Innumerous  wings  are  in  commotion  all. 

Where  the  Rhine  loses  his  majestic  force 
In  Belgian  plains,  won  from  the  raging  deep, 

By  diligence  amazing,  and  the  strong 
Unconquerable  hand  of  Liberty, 

The  stork-assembly  meets  ; for  many  a day. 
Consulting  deep,  and  various,  ere  they  take 


AUTUMN. 


icii 

Tiieir  arduous  voyag^e  through  the  ii(juid  sky. 

And  now  tlieir  route  design’d,  their  leaders  chose, 
Their  tribes  adjusted,  clean’d  their  vigorous  wings; 
And  many  a circle,  many  a short  essay. 

Wheel’d  round  and  round,  in  congregation  full 
The  figur’d  flight  ascends  ; and  riding  high 
Th’  aerial  billows,  mixes  with  the  clouds. 

Or  where  the  Northern  ocean,  in  vast  whirls, 

Boils  round  the  naked  melancholy  isles 
Of  furthest  Thul6,  and  th’  Atlantic  surge 
Pours  in  among  the  stormy  Hebrides ; 

Who  can  recount  what  transmigrations  there 
Are  annual  made?  what  nations  come  and  go? 

And  how  the  living  clouds  on  clouds  arise  ? 

Infinite  w ings ! till  all  the  plume  dark  air, 

And  rude  resounding  shore,  are  one  wild  cry. 

Here  (he  plain  harmless  native,  his  small  flock, 
And  herd  diminutive  of  many  hues, 

Tends  on  the  little  island’s  verdant  swell. 

The  shepherd’s  sea-girt  reign  ; or,  to  the  rocks 
Dire-clinging,  gathers  his  ovarious  food! 

Or  sweeps  the  fishy  shore  1 or  treasures  up 
The  plumage,  rising  full,  to  form  the  bed 
Of  luxury.  And  here  awhile  the  Muse, 

High  hovering  o’er  the  broad  cerulean  scene, 

Sees  Caledonia,  in  romantic  view: 

Her  airy  mountains,  from  the  waving  main, 

Invested  with  a keen  difi’usive  sky. 

Breathing  the  soul  acute  : her  forests  husre, 

Incuit,  robust,  and  tall,  by  Nature’s  hand 
Planted  of  old;  her  azure  lakes  between, 

11  o 2 


1^2 


AUTUMN. 


Pour’d  out  extensive,  and  of  watery  wealth 
Full ; winding'  deep,  and  green,  her  fertile  vales  ; 
^Vith  many  a cool  translucent  brimming  flood 

ash’d  lovely,  from  the  Tweed  (pure  parent  stream, 
AVhose  pastoral  banks  first  heard  my  Doric  creed, 
With,  sylvan  Jed,  thy  tributary  brook) 

To  where  the  north-inflated  tempest  foams 
O’er  Orca’s  or  Betubium’s  highest  peak : 

Nurse  of  a people,  in  Misfortune’s  school 
Train’d  up  to  hardy  deeds  j soon  visited 
By  Learning,  when  before  the  Gothic  rage, 

She  took  her  western  flight.  A manly  race. 

Of  unsubmitting  spirit,  wise  and  brave  j 
Who  still  through  bleeding  ages  struggled  hard, 

(As  well  unhappy  Wallace  can  attest. 

Great  patriot-hero  ! ill-requited  chief!) 

To  hold  a generous  undiminish’d  state; 

Too  much  in  vain ! Hence  of  unequal  bounds 
Impatient,  and  by  tempting  glory  borne 
O’er  every  land ; for  every  land  their  life 
Has  flow’d  profuse,  their  piercing  genius  plann’d, 
And  swell’d  the  pomp  of  peace  their  faithful  toil. 

As  from  their  own  clear  north  in  radiant  streams 
Bright  over  Europe  bursts  the  boreal  morn. 

Oh  I is  there  not  some  patriot,  in  whose  power 
That  best,  that  godlike  luxury  is  plac’d, 

Of  blessing  thousands,  thousands  yet  unborn, 
Through  late  posterity  ? some,  large  of  sole, 

To  cheer  dejected  industry  ? to  give 
A double  harvest  to  the  pining  swain 
And  teach  the  labouring  hand  the  sweets  of  toil  ? 


AUTUMN. 


163 


Uow,  by  the  finest  art,  the  native  robe 
To  weave;  how,  white  as  hyperborean  snow. 

To  form  the  lucid  lawn  ; with  ventVous  oar 
Mow  to  dash  wide  the  billow ; nor  look  on, 
Shamefully  passive,  while  Batavian  fleets 
Defraud  us  of  the  glittering-  finny  swarms, 

That  heave  our  friths,  and  crowd  upon  our  shores? 
How  all  enlivening  trade  to  rouse,  and  wing 
The  prosperous  sail,  from  every  growing  port. 
Uninjur’d,  round,  the  sea-encircled  globe; 

And  thus,  in  soul  united  as  in  name, 

Bid  Britain  reign  the  mistress  of  the  deep? 

Yes,  there  are  such.  And  full  on  thee,  Argyle, 
Her  hope,  her  stay,  her  darling,  and  her  boast, 
From  her  first  patriots  and  her  heroes  sprung, 

Thy  fond  imploring  country  turns  her  eye ; 

In  thee,  with  all  a mother’s  triumph,  sees 
Her  every  virtue,  every  grace  combin’d ; 

Her  genius,  wisdom,  her  engagingturn; 

Her  pride  of  honour,  and  her  courage  tried, 

Calm,  and  intrepid,  in  the  very  throat 
Of  sulphurous  -war,  on  Tenier’s  dreadful  field. 

Nor  less  the  palm  of  peace  inwreaths  thy  brow. 
For,  powerful  as  thy  sword,  from  thy  rich  tongue 
Persuasion  flows,  and  wins  the  high  debate ; 

While  mix’d  in  thee  combine  the  charm  of  youth, 
The  force  of  manhood,  and  the  depth  of  age. 

Thee,  Forbes,  too,  whom  every  worth  attends, 

As  truth  sincere,  as  weeping  friendship  kin<i ; 

Thee,  truly  generous,  and  in  silence  great, 

Thy  country  feels  through  her  reviving  arts, 


164 


ACTUMN. 


Plann’d  by  thy  wisdom,  by  thy  soul  inform'd  ; 

And  seldom  has  she  known  a friend  like  thee. 

But  see  the  fading  many-colour'd  woods, 

Shade  deepening  over  shade,  the  country  round 
fmbrown ; a crowded  umbrage,  dusk,  and  dun, 

Of  every  hue,  from  wan  declining  green 

I'o  sooty  dark.  These  now  the  lonesome  rdtise. 

Low-whispering,  lead  into  their  leaf-strowii  wail  s, 

And  give  the  Season  in  its  latest  view. 

Meantime,  light-shadowing  all,  a sober  calm 
Fleecejs  unbounded  ether ; whose  least  wave 
Stands  tremulous,  uncertain  where  to  turn 
The  gentle  current : while  illumin’d  wide, 

The  dewy-skirted  clouds  imbibe  the  sun. 

And  through  their  lucid  veil  his  soften’d  force 
Shed  o’er  the  peaceful  world.  Then  is  the  time, 

For  those  whom  Wisdom  and  w hom  Nature  cliarm,  i 
To  steal  themselves  from  the  degenerate  crowd,  ^ 

And  soar  above  this  little  scene  of  things ; ! 

To  tread  low-thoughted  Vice  beneath  their  feet ; 

To  sooth  the  throbbing  passions  into  peace ; 

And  w'oo  lone  Quiet  in  her  silent  walks. 

Thus  solitary,  and  in  pensive  guise,  t 

Oft  let  me  wander  o’er  the  russet  mead,  < 

And  through  the  sadden’d  grove,»w  here  scarce  is  heard  1 
One  dying  strain  to  cheer  theVoodman’s  toll.  I 

Haply  some  widow’d  songster  pours  his  plaint,  i 

Far,  in  faint  warblings,  through  the  tawny  copse:  1 

While  congregated  thrushes,  linnets,  larks,  ‘ 

And  each  wild  throat,  whose  artless  strains  so  late 
Swell'd  all  the  music  of  the  swarming  shades, 


AUTUMN. 


165 


Robb’d  of  their  tuneful  souls,  now  shivering  sit 
On  the  dead  tree,  a dull  despondent  flock; 

With  not  a brightness  waving  o’er  their  plumes. 
And  nought  save  chattering  discord  in  their  note. 

O let  not,  aim’d  from  some  inhuman  eye, 

The  gun,  the  music  of  the  coming  year. 

Destroy;  and  harmless,  unsuspecting  harm, 
l-t^y  the  weak  tribes,  a miserable  prey. 

In  mingled  murder,  fluttering  on  the  ground. 

The  pale  descending  year,  yet  pleasing  still, 

A gentler  mood  inspires;  for  now  the  leaf 
Incessant  rustles  from  the  mournful  grove  ; 

Oft  startling  such  as,  studious,  walk  below. 

And  slowly  circles  through  the  waving  air. 

But  should  a quicker  breeze  amid  the  boughs 
Sob,  o’er  the  sky  the  leafy  deluge  streams; 

Till  chok’d,  and  matted  with  the  dreary  shower, 
The  forest -walks,  at  every  rising  gale. 

Roll  wide  the  wither’d  waste,  and  whistle  bleak. 
Fled  is  the  blasted  verdure  of  the  fields; 

And,  shrunk  into  their  beds,  the  flowery  race 
Their  sunny  robes  resign.  E’en  wdiat  remain’d 
Of  stronger  fruits,  falls  from  the  naked  tree  ; 

And  woods,  fields,  gardens,  orchards,  all  aro'.md 
The  desolated  prospect  thrills  the  soul. 

He  comes!  he  comes!  in  every  breeze  the  Power 
Of  Philosophic  Melancholy  comes  ! 

His  near  approach  the  sudden-starting  tear. 

The  glowing  cheek,  the  mild  dejected  air. 

The  soften’d  feature^  and  the  beating  heart, 

Pierc’d  deep  with  many  a virtuous  pang,  declare. 


166 


AUTUMN^ 


O’er  all  the  soul  his  sacred  influence  breathes! 
Inflames  imagination;  through  the  breast 
Infuses  every  tenderness;  and  far 
Beyond  him  earth  exalts  the  swelling  thought. 
Ten  thousand  thousand  fleet  ideas,  such 
As  never  mingled  with  the  vulgar  dream, 

Crowd  fast  into  the  mind’s  creative  eye. 

As  fast  the  correspondent  passions  rise, 

As  varied,  and  as  high.  Devotion  rais’d 
To  rapture,  and  divine  astonishment; 

The  love  of  Nature  unconfin’d,  and,  chief. 

Of  human  race;  the  large  ambitious  wish, 

To  make  them  blest;  the  sigh  for  suffering  worth 
Lost  in  obscurity;  the  noble  scorn 
Of  tyrant-pride ; the  fearless  great  resolve ; 

The  wonder  which  the  dying  patriot  draws, 
Inspiring  glory  through  remotest  time; 

Th’  awaken’d  throb  for  virtue,  and  for  fame; 

The  sympathies  of  love,  and  friendship  dear; 

With  all  the  social  offspring  of  the  heart. 

Oh ! bear  me  then  to  vast  embowering  shades; 
To  twilight  groves,  and  visionary  vales ; 

To  weeping  grottos,  and  prophetic  glooms; 

Where  angel  forms  athwart  the  solemn  dusk. 
Tremendous  sweep,  or  seem  to  sweep  along; 

And  voices  more  than  human,  through  the  void 
Deep-sounding,  seize  th’  enthusiastic  ear. 

Or  is  this  gioom  too  much  ? Then  lead,  ye  pow'ers, 
That  o’er  the  garden  and  the  rural  seat 
Preside,  which  shining  through  the  cheerful  land 
In  countless  numbers  blest  Britannia  sees ; 


AUTUMN. 


IG 


O ! lead  me  to  the  wide-extended  w alks. 

The  fair  majestic  paradise  of  Stowe!* 

INot  Persian  Cyrus  on  Ionia’s  shore 
E’er  saw  such  sylvan  scenes;  such  various  art 
By  genius  fir’d,  such  ardent  genius  tam’d 
By  cool  judicious  art ; that,  in  the  strife, 
All-bounteous  Nature  fears  to  be  outdone. 

And  there,  O Pitt!  thy  country’s  early  boast. 
There  let  me  sit  beneath  the  shelter’d  slopes, 

Or  in  that  Templet  where,  in  future  times, 

Thou  well  shalt  merit  a distinguish’d  name ; 

And  with  thy  converse  blest,  catch  the  last  smiles 
Of  Autumn  beaming  o’er  the  yellow  woods. 

While  there  with  thee  th’  enchanted  round  I walk, 
The  regulated  wild ; gay  Fancy  then 
Will  tread  in  thought  the  groves  of  attic  land; 
Will  from  thy  standard  taste  refine  her  own, 
Correct  her  pencil  to  the  purest  truth 
Of  Nature,  or,  the  unimpassion’d  shades 
Forsaking,  raise  it  to  the  human  mind. 

Or  if  hereafter  she,  with  juster  hand. 

Shall  draw  the  tragic  scene,  instruct  her,  thou. 

To  mark  the  varied  movements  of  the  heart. 

What  every  decent  character  requires, 

And  every  passion  speaks:  O!  through  her  strain 
Breathe  thy  pathetic  eloquence ! that  moulds 
Th’ attentive  senate,  charms, persuades,  exalts, 

* TJie  seat  of  Lord  Viscount  Cobham, 

I The  Temple  of  Virtue  in  Stowe  Gardens. 


168 


AUTUxMN. 


Of  honest  Zeal  th’  indignant  lightning  throws, 

And  shakes  Corruption  on  her  venal  throne. 

While  thus  we  talk,  and  through  Elysian  vales 
Delighted  rove,  perhaps  a sigh  escapes ; 

What  pity,  Cobham,  thou  thy  verdant  files 
Of  order’d  trees  shouldst  here  inglorious  range, 
Instead  of  squadrons  flaming  o’er  the  field, 

And  long  embattled  hosts ; when  the  proud  foe, 

The  faithless  vain  disturber  of  mankind, 

Insulting  Gaul,  has  rous’d  the  world  to  war ; 

When  keen,  once  more,  within  their  bounds  to  press 
Those  polish’d  robbers,  those  ambitious  slaves. 

The  British  youth  would  hail  thy  wise  command, 

Thy  temper’d  ardour  and  thy  vetVan  skill. 

The  western  sun  withdraws  the  shorten’d  day  • 

And  humi^d  Evening,  gliding  o’er  the  sky, 

In  her  chill  progress,  to  the  ground  condens’d 
The  vapour  throws.  Where  creeping  waters  007:e, 
Where  marshes  stagnate,  and  where  rivers  wind. 
Cluster  the  rolling  fogs,  and  swim  along 
The  dusky-mantled  lawn.  Meanwhile  the  Moon 
Full-orb’d,  and  breaking  through  the  scatter’d  cloudr, 
Shows  her  broad  visage  in  the  crimson’d  east; 
Turn'd  to  the  sun  direct,  her  spotted  disk. 

Where  mountains  rise,  umbrageous  dales  descend, 
And  caverns  deep,  as  optic  tube  descries, 

A smaller  earth  gives  us  his  blaze  again. 

Void  of  its  flame,  and  sheds  a softer  day. 

Now  through  the  passing  cloud  she  seems  to  stoop. 
Now  up  the  pure  cerulean  rides  sublime. 


AUTUMN. 


169 


Wide  the  pale  deluge  floats  ; and  streaming  mild 
O’er  the  sky’d  mountain  to  the  shadowy  vale, 

While  rocks  and  floods  reflect  the  quivering  gleam, 
The  whole  air  whitens  with  a boundless  tide 
Of  silver  radiance,  trembling  round  the  world. 

But  when  half  blotted  from  the  sky  her  light, 
Fainting,  [)ermits  the  starry  nres  to  burn 
With  keener  lustre  through  the  depth  of  heaven  ; 

Or  near  extinct  her  deaden’d  orb  appears, 

And  scarce  appears,  of  sickly  beamless  white  ; 

Oft  in  this  season,  silent  from  the  north 
A blaze  of  meteors  shoots  : ensweeping  first 
The  lower  skies,  they  all  at  once  converge 
High  to  the  crown  of  heaven,  and  all  at  once 
Relapsing  quick,  as  quickly  reascend. 

And  mix,  and  thwart,  extinguish,  and  renew', 

All  ether  coursing  in  a maze  of  light. 

Frcvtn  look  to  look,  contagious  through  the  crowd, 
The  panic  runs,  and  into  w'ondrous  shapes 
Th’  appearance  throws  : armies  in  meet  array, 
Throng’d  with  aerial  spears,  and  steeds  of  fire  ; 

Till  the  long  lines  of  full-extended  war 
In  bleeding  fight  commixt,  the  sanguine  fiood 
Rolls  a broad  slaughter  o’er  the  plains  of  heaven. 

As  thus  they  scan  the  visionary  scene. 

On  all  sides  swells  the  superstitious  din, 

Incontinent ; and  busy  frenzy  talks 
Of  blood  and  battle  ; cities  overturn’d  ; 

And  late  at  night  in  swallowing  earthquake  sunk, 

Or  hideous  wrapt  in  fierce  ascending  flame  , 

Of  sallow  famine,  inundation,  storm  ; 

p 


110 


AUTUMN, 


Of  pestilence,  and  every  great  distress  ; 

Empires  subvers'd,  v/hen  ruling  fate  has  struck 
Th’  unalterable  hour : e’en  Nature’s  self 
Is  deem’d  to  totter  on  the  brink  of  time. 

Not  so  the  man  of  philosophic  eye, 

And  inspect  sage;  the  waving  brightness  he 
Curious  surveys,  inquisitive  to  know 
The  causes,  and  materials,  yet  unfix’d, 

Of  this  appearance  beautiful  and  new. 

Now  black,  and  deep,  the  night  begins  to  fall, 

A shade  immense!  Sunk  in  the  quenching  gtoom, 
Magnificent  and  vast,  are  heaven  and  earth. 
Order  confounded  lies ; all  beauty  void ; 
Distinction  lost;  and  gay  variety 
One  universal  blot:  such  the  fair  power 
Of  light,  to  kindle  and  create  the  whole. 

Drear  is  the  state  of  the  benighted  wretch, 

Who  then,  bewilder’d,  wanders  through  the  dark. 
Full  of  pale  fancies,  and  chimeras  huge; 

Nor  visited  by  one  directive  ray. 

From  cottage  streaming,  or  from  airy  hall. 
Perhaps  impatient  as  he  stumbles  on. 

Struck  from  the  root  of  slimy  rushes,  blue, 

The  wild-fire  scatters  round ; or  gather’d  trails 
A length  of  flame  deceitful  o'er  the  moss; 
Whither  decoy’d  by  the  fantastic  blaze, 

Now  lost  and  now  renew’d,  he  sinks  absorpt, 
Rider  and  horse,  amid  the  miry  gulf; 

While  still,  from  day  to  day,  his  pining  wife, 

And  plaintive  children,  his  return  await, 

In  wild  conjecture  lost.  At  other  times, 


AUTUMN. 


Hi 


Sent  by  the  better  Genius  of  the  night, 

Innoxious,  gleaming  on  the  horse’s  mane, 

The  meteor  sits;  and  shows  the  narrow  path. 

That  winding  leads  through  pits  of  death,  or  else 
Instructs  him  how  to  take  the  dangerous  ford. 

The  lengthen’d  night  elapsed,  the  Morning  shines 
Serene,  in  all  her  dewy  beauty  bright; 

Unfolding  fair  the  last  autumnal  day. 

And  now  the  mounting  sun  dispels  the  fog; 

The  rigid  hoar-frost  melts  before  his  beam; 

And  hung  on  every  spray,  on  every  blade 
Of  grass,  the  myriad  dew-drops  twinkle  round. 

Ah,  see  where  robb’d,  and  murder’d,  in  that  pit 
Lies  the  still  heaving  hive  ! at  evening  snatch'd, 
Beneath  the  cloud  of  guilt-concealing  night. 

And  fix’d  o’er  sulphur;  while,  not  dreaming  ill. 

The  happy  people,  in  their  waxen  cells. 

Sat  tending  public  cares,  and  planning  schemes 
Of  temperance,  for  Winter  poor;  rejoiced 
To  mark,  full  flowing  round,  their  copious  stores. 
Sudden  the  dark  oppressive  steam  ascends; 

And,  us’d  to  milder  scents,  the  tender  race. 

By  thousands,  tumble  from  their  honey’d  domes, 
Contolv’d,  and  agonizing  in  the  dust. 

Anjl  was  it  then  for  this  you  roam’d  the  Spring, 
Intent  from  flower  to  flower.^  for  this  you  toil’d 
Ceaseless  the  burning  Summer-heats  away? 

For  this  in  Autumn  search’d  the  blooming  waste. 
Nor  lost  one  sunny  gleam,  for  this  sad  fate? 

OMan!  tyrannic  lord!  how  long,  how  long, 

Shall  prostrate  Nature  groan  beneath  your  rage, 


172 


AUTUMN. 


Awaiting  renovation  ? When  oblig’d, 

Must  you  destroy  ? Of  their  ambrosial  food 
Can  you  not  borrow;  and,  in  just  return, 

Afford  them  shelter  from  the  wintry  winds  ? 

Or,  as  the  sharp  year  pinches,  with  their  own 
Again  regale  them  on  some  smiling  day  ? 

See  where  the  stony  bottom  of  their  town 
Looks  desolate,  and  wild;  with  here  and  there 
A helpless  number,  who  the  ruin’d  state 
Survive,  lamenting  weak,  cast  out  to  death. 

Thus  a proud  city,  populous  and  rich. 

Full  of  the  works  of  peace,  and  high  in  joy ; 

At  theatre  or  feast,  or  sunk  in  sleep, 

(As  late,  Palermo,  was  thy  fate,)  is  seiz’d 
By  some  dread  earthquake;  and  convulsive  hurl’d 
Sheer  from  the  black  foundation,  stench-involvM, 
Into  a gulf  of  blue  sulphureous  flame. 

Hence  every  harsher  sight!  for  now  the  day. 

O’er  heaven  and  earth  diffus’d,  grows  warm  and  high 
Infinite  splendour!  wide  investing  all. 

How  still  the  breeze!  save  what  the  filmy  threads 
Of  dew  evaporate  brushes  from  the  plain. 

How  clear  the  cloudless  sky ! how  deeply  ting  d 
With  a peculiar  blue!  th’  ethereal  arch 
How  swell’d  immense!  amid  whose  azure  thron’d 
The  radiant  sun  how  gay ! how  calm  below 
The  gilded  earth ! the  harvest-trejasures  all 
Now  gather’d  in,  beyond  the  rage  of  storms, 

Sure  to  the  swain;  the  circling  fence  shut  up; 

And  instant  Winter’s  utmost  rage  defied 
While,  loose,  to  festive  joy,  the  country  round 


autumn- 


173 


Laughs  with  the  loud  sincerity  of  mirth, 

Shook  to  the  wind  their  cares.  The  toil-strung  youth, 
By  the  quick  sense  of  music  taught  alone, 

Leaps  wildly  graceful  in  the  lively  dance. 

Her  every  charm  abroad,  the  village-toast. 

Young,  buxom,  warm,  in  native  beauty  ricli. 

Darts  not  unmeaning  looks;  and,  where  her  eye 
Points  an  approving  smile,  with  double  force, 

The  cudgel  rattles,  and  the  wrestler  twines. 

Age  too  shines  out;  and,  garrulous,  recounts 
The  feats  of  youth.  Thus  they  rejoice;  nor  think 
That,  with  to-morrow’s  sun,  their  annual  toil 
Begins  again  the  never-ceasing  round. 

Oh,  knew  he  but  his  happiness,  of  men 
The  happiest  he!  who  far  from  public  rage, 

Deep  in  the  vale,  with  a choice  few  retir’d. 

Drinks  the  pure  pleasures  of  the  Rural  Life. 

What  though  the  dome  be  wanting,  whose  proud  gate, 
Each  morning  vomits  out  the  sneaking  crowd 
Of  flatterers  false,  and,  in  their  turn  abus’d  ^ 

Vile  intercourse  I what  though  the  glittering  robe* 

Of  every  hue  reflected  light  can  give. 

Or  floating  loose,  or  stiff  with  mazy  gold, 

The  pride  and  gaze  of  fools  I oppress  him  not? 

What  though,  from  utmost  land  and  sea  purvey’d, 
For  him  each  rarer  tributary  life 
Bleeds  not,  and  his  insatiate  table  heaps 
With  luxury,  and  death?  What  though  his  bowl 
Flames  not  with  costly  juice;  nor  sunk  in  beds, 

Oft  of  gay  care,  he  tosses  out  the  night. 

Or  melts  the  thoughtless  hours  in  idle  state  * 

p 2 


174 


AUTUMN. 


What  thoug^h  he  knows  not  those  fantastic  joys, 
That  still  amuse  the  wanton,  still  deceive; 

A face  of  pleasure,  but  a heart  of  pain; 

Their  hollow  moments  undelighted  all? 

Sure  peace  is  his;  a solid  life,  estrang’d 
To  disappointment,  and  fallacious  hope : 

Rich  in  content,  in  Nature^s  bounty  rich, 

In  herbs  and  fruits ; whatever  greens  the  Spring, 
When  heav’ii  descendsdn  showers ; or  bends  the  bough 
When  Summer  reddens,  and  when  Autumn  beams  ; 
Or  in  the  wintry  glebe  whatever  lies 
Conceal’d,  and  fattens  with  the  richest  sap : 

These  are  not  wanting;  nor  the  milky  drove, 
Luxuriant,  spread  o’er  all  the  lowing  vale; 

Nor  bleating  mountains;  nor  the  chide  of  streams, 
And  hum  of  bees,  inviting  sleep  sincere 
Into  the  guiltless  breast,  beneath  the  shade, 

Or  thrown  at  large  amid  the  fragrant  hay; 

Nor  aught  besides  of  prospect,  grove,  or  song, 

Dim  grottos,  gleaming  lakes,  and  fountain  clear. 
Here  too  dwells  simple  Truth ; plain  Innocence ; 
Unsullied  Beauty ; sound  unbroken  Youth, 

Patient  of  labour,  with  a little  pleas’d; 

Health  ever  blooming;  unambitious  toil; 

Calm  Contemplation,  and  poetic  Ease. 

Let  others  brave  the  flood  in  quest  of  gain. 

And  beat,  for  joyless  months,  the  gloomy  wave. 

Let  such  as  deem  it  glory  to  destroy, 

Rush  into  blood,  the  sack  of  cities  seek; 

Unpierc’d,  exulting  in  the  widow’s  wail, 

The  virgin’s  shriek,  and  infant’s  trembling  cry. 


A.UTUMN, 


175 


Let  some,  far  distant  from  their  native  soil, 

Urg’d  or  by  want  or  harden’d  avarice. 

Find  other  lands  beneath  another  sun. 

Let  this  through  cities  work  his  eager  v/ay, 

By  legal  outrage  and  establish’d  guile. 

The  social  sense  extinct ; and  that  ferment 
Mad  into  tumult  the  seditious  herd. 

Or  melt  them  down  to  slavery.  Let  these 
Ensnare  the  wretched  in  the  toils  of  law. 

Fomenting  discord,  and  perplexing  right, 

An  iron  race ! and  those  of  fairer  front. 

But  equal  inhumanity,  in  courts. 

Delusive  pomp  and  dark  cabals,  delight; 

Wreathe  the  deep  bow,  diffuse  the  lying  smile, 

And  tread  the  weary  labyrinth  of  state. 

While  he,  from  all  the  stormy  passions  free 
That  restless  men  involve,  hears,  and  but  hears, 

At  distance  safe,  the  human  tempest  roar, 

Wrapt  close  in  conscious  peace.  The  fall  of  kiihgs, 
The  rage  of  nations,  and  the  crush  of  states. 

Move  not  the  man,  who,  from  the  world  escap’d, 

In  still  retreats,  and  flowery  solitudes. 

To  Nature’s  voice  attends,  from  month  to  month. 
And  day  to  day,  through  the  revolving  year; 
Admiring,  sees  her  in  her  every  shape ; 

Feels  all  her  sweet  emotions  at  his  heart; 

Takes  what  she  liberal  gives,  nor  thinks  of  more. 

He,  when  young  Spring  protrudes  the  burstinggems, 
Marks  the  flrst  bud,  and  sucks  the  healthful  gale 
Into  his  freshen’d  soul ; her  genial  hours 
He  full  enjoys  ; and  not  a beauty  blows. 


176 


AUTUMN. 


And  not  an  opening  blossom  breathes  in  vain. 

In  Summer  he,  beneath  the  living  shade, 

Such  as  o’er  frigid  Terape  wont  to  wave, 

Or  Hemus  cool,  reads  what  the  Muse,  of  these, 
Perhaps, has  in  immortal  numbers  sung; 

Or  what  she  dictates  writes  : and,  oft  an  eye 
Shot  round,  rejoices  in  the  vigorous  year. 

When  Autumn’s  yellow  lustre  gilds  the  world, 

And  tempts  the  sickled  swain  into  the  field. 

Seiz’d  by  the  general  joy,  his  heart  distends 
With  gentle  throes ; and,  through  the  tepid  gleams 
Deep  musing,  then  he  best  exerts  his  song. 

E’en  Winter  wild  to  him  is  full  of  bliss. 

The  mighty  tempest,  and  the  hoary  waste, 

Abrupt,  and  deep,  stretch'd  o’er  the  buried  earth, 
Awake  to  solemn  thought.  At  night  the  skies, 
Disclos’d  and  kindled  by  refining  frost 
Pour  every  lustre  on  th’  exalted  eye. 

A friend,  a book,  the  stealing  hours  secure, 

And  mark  them  down  for  wisdom.  With  swift  .ving 
O’er  land  and  sea  imagination  roams ; 

Or  truth,  divinely  breaking  on  his  mind. 

Elates  his  being,  and  unfolds  his  powers ; 

Or  in  his  breast  heroic  virtue  burns. 

The  touch  of  kindred  too  and  love  he  feels 
The  modest  eye,  whose  beams  on  his  alone 
Ecstatic  shine  ; the  little  strong  embrace 
Of  prattling  children,  twin’d  around  his  neck, 

And  emulous  to  please  him,  calling  forth 
The  fond  parental  soul.  JNor  purpose  gay. 
Amusement,  dance,  or  song,  he  sternly  scorns ; 


AUTUMN. 


177 


For  liappmess  and  true  philosophy 
Are  of  the  social  still,  and  smiling'  kind. 

This  is  the  life  which  those  who  fret  in  guilt, 

And  guilty  cities,  never  knew ; the  life, 

Led  by  primeval  ages,  uncorrupt, 

When  Angels  dwelt,  and  God  himself,  with  Man. 

Oh  Nature  ! all  sufficient  I over  all ! 

Enrich  me  with  the  knowledge  of  thy  works ! 
Snatch  me  to  heaven  ; thy  rolling  wonders  there, 
World  beyond  world,  in  infinite  extent, 

Profusely  scatter’d  o’er  the  blue  immense, 

Show  me  ; their  motions,  periods,  and  their  laws. 
Give  me  to  scan  ; through  Ciie  disclosing  deep 
Light  my  blind  way : the  mineral  strata  there  ; 
Thrust,  blooming,  thence  the  vegetable  world  5 
O’er  that  the  rising  system,  more  complex, 

Of  animals  ; and  higher  still,  the  mind. 

The  varied  scene  of  quick-compounded  thought, 
And  where  the  mixing  passions  endless  shift } 
These  ever  open  to  my  ravish’d  eye  ; 

A search,  the  flight  of  time  can  ne’er  exhaust. 

But  if  to  that  unequal ; if  the  blood, 

In  sluggish  streams  about  my  heart,  forbid 
That  best  ambition  ; under  closing  shades, 
Inglorious,  lay  me  by  the  lowly  brook, 

And  whisper  to  my  dreams.  From  Thee  begin. 
Dwell  all  on  Thee,  w ith  Thee  conclude  my  song ; 
And  let  me  never,  never  stray  from  Thee  ! 

12 


WINTER 


TOE  ARGUMENT. 


Pie  mhject  proposed.  Address  to  the  Earl  of  Wil- 
mington. First  approach  of  Winter.  According 
to  the  natural  course  of  the  season^  various  storms  de- 
scribed. Rain.  Wind.  Snow.  The  driving  of  the 
snows : a man  perishing  among  them ; whence  re- 
flections on  the  wants  and  miseries  of  human  life. 
The  wolves  descending  from  the  Alps  and  Appe- 
nines.  A winter  evening  described;  as  spent  by 
philosophers;  by  the  country  people;  in  the  city. 
Frost.  A view  of  Winter  within  the  polar  circle.  A 
thaw.  The  whole  concluding  loith  moral  reflections 
on  a future  state. 


WINTER 


OEE,  Winter  comes,  to  rule  the  varied  year, 
Sullen  and  sad,  with  all  his  rising  train;  [theme* 
Vapours,  and  Clouds,  and  Storms.  Be  these  my 
that  exalt  the  soul  to  solemn  thought. 

And  heavenly  musing.  Welcome,  kindred  glooms! 
Congenial  horrors,  hail ! with  frequent  foot. 

Pleas’d  have  I,  in  my  cheerful  morn  of  life, 

When  nurs’d  by  careless  Solitude  I liv’d. 

And  snng  of  Nature  with  unceasing  joy. 

Pleas’d  have  I wander’d  through  your  rough  domain; 
Trod  the  pure  virgin-snows,  myself  as  pure; 

Heard  the  winds  roar,  and  the  big  torrent  burst; 

Or  seen  the  deep-fermenting  tempest  brew’d. 

In  the  grim  evening  sky.  Thus  pass’d  the  time, 

Till  through  the  lucid  chambers  of  the  south 
Look’d  out  the  joyous  Spring,  look’d  out,  and  smil’d. 

To  thee,  the  patron  of  her  first  essay, 

The  Muse,  0 Wilmington!  renews  her  song. 

Since  has  she  rounded  the  revolving  year : 

Skimm’d  the  gay  Spring;  on  eagle-pinions  borne, 
Attempted  through  the  Summer-blaze  to  rise; 

Then  swept  o’er  Autumn  with  the  shadowy  gale  ; 

And  now  among  the  wintry  clouds  again, 


WINTER. 


iS2 

Roll’d  in  the  doubling- storm,  she  tries  to  soar; 

To  swell  her  note  with  all  the  rushing  winds; 

To  suit  her  spunding  cadence  to  the  floods; 

As  is  her  theme,  her  numbers  wildly  great: 

Thrice  happy ! could  she  fill  thy  judging  ear 
With  bold  description,  and  with  manly  thoughts. 

Nor  art  thou  skill’d  in  awful  schemes  alone, 

And  how  to  make  a mighty  people  thrive ; 

But  equal  goodness,  sound  integrity, 

A firm  unshaken  uncorrupted  soul 
Amid  a sliding  age,  and  burning  strong, 

Not  vainly  blazing,  for  thy  country’s  weal, 

A steady  spirit  regularly  free; 

These  each  exalting  each,  the  statesman  light 
Into  the  patriot;  these  the  public  hope 
And  eye  to  thee  converting,  bid  the  Muse 
Record  what  envy  dares  not  flattery  call. 

Now  when  the  cheerless  empire  of  the  sky 
To  Capricorn  the  Centaur  Archer  yields. 

And  fierce  Aquarius  stains  th’  inverted  year; 

Hung  o’er  the  furthest  verge  of  heaven,  the  sun 
Scarce  spreads  through  ether  the  dejected  day 
Faint  are  his  gleams,  and  inefiectual  shoot 
His  struggling  rays,  in  horizontal  lines, 

Through  the  thick  air;  as  cloth’d  in  cloudy  storm. 
Weak,  wan,  and  broad,  he  skirts  the  southern  sky 
And,  soon-descending,  to  the  long  dark  night. 
Wide-shading  all,  the  prostrate  world  resigns. 

Nor  is  the  night  tinwish’d  ; while  vital  heat,' 

Light,  life,  and  joy,  the  dubious  day  forsake. 
Meantime,  in  sable  cincture,  shadows  vast, 


WINTER. 


183 


Deep-ting’d  and  damp,  and  congregated  clouds, 

^nd  all  the  vapoury  turbulence  of  heaven. 

Involve  the  face  of  things.  Thus  Winter  falls, 

A.  heavy  gloom  oppressive  o’er  the  world, 

Through  Nature  shedding  influence  malign, 

And  rouses  up  the  seeds  of  dark  disease. 

The  soul  of  man  dies  in  him,  loathing  life. 

And  black  with  more  than  melancholy  views. 

The  cattle  droop;  and  o’er  the  furrow’d  land. 

Fresh  from  the  plough,  the  dun  discolour’d  flocks. 
Untended  spreading,  crop  the  wholesome  root. 
Along  the  woods,  along  the  moorish  fens,. 

Sighs  the  sad  Genius  of  the  coming  storm  ; 

And  up  among  the  loose  disjointed  cliffs. 

And  fractur’d  mountains  wild,  the  brawling  brook 
And  cave,  presageful,  send  a hollow  moan, 
Eesounding  long  in  listening  Fancy’s  ear. 

Then  comes  the  father  of  the  tempest  forth. 
Wrapt  in  black  glooms.  First  joyless  rains  obscure 
Drive  through  the  mingling  skies  with  vapour  foul; 
Dash  on  the  mountain’s  brow,  and  shake  the  woods. 
That  grumbling  wave  below.  Th’  unsightly  plain 
Lies  a brown  deluge;  as  the  low-bent  clouds 
Pour  flood  on  flood,  yet  unexhausted  still 
Combine,  and  deepening  into  night,  shut  up 
The  day’s  fair  face.  The  wanderers  of  heaven, 
Each  to  his  home,  retire ; save  those  that  love 
To  take  their  pastime  in  the  troubled  air, 

Or  skimming  flutter  round  the  dimply  pool 
The  cattle  from  th’  untasted  fields  return, 


184 


WINTER. 


And  ask,  with  meaning  low,  theirwonted  stalls, 

Or  ruminate  in  the  contiguous  shade. 

Thither  the  household  feathery  people  crowd, 

The  crested  cock,  with  all  his  female  train, 

Pensive,  and  dripping;  while  the  cottage  hind 
Hangs  o’er  th’  enlivening  blaze,  and  taleful  there 
Recounts  his  simple  frolic  : much  he  talks, 

And  much  he  laughs,  nor  recks  the  storm  mat  blows 
Without,  and  rattles  on  his  humble  roof. 

Wide  o’er  the  brim,  with  many  a torrent  swell’d, 
And  the  mix’d  ruin  of  its  banks  o’erspread. 

At  last  the  rous’d-up  river  pours  along : 

Resistless,  roaring,  dreadful,  down  it  comes, 

F rom  the  rude  mountain,  and  the  mossy  wild, 
Tumoling  through  rooks  abrupt,  and  sounding  far; 
Then  o’er  the  sanded  valley  floating  spreads, 

Calm,  sluggish,  silent ; till  again,  constrain’d 
Between  two  meeting  hills  it  bursts  away. 

Where  rocks  and  woods  o’erhang  the  turbid  stream  • 
There  gathering  triple  force,  rapid,  and  deep. 

It  boils,  and  wheels,  and  foams,  and  thunders  through 
Nature!  great  parent!  whose  unceasing  hand 
Rolls  round  the  Season-s  of  the  changeful  year, 

How  mighty,  how  majestic,  are  jthy  works! 

With  what  a pleasing  dread  they  swell  the  soul ! 

That  sees  astonish’d ! and  astonish’d  sings  ! 

Ve  too,  ye  winds!  that  now  begin  to  blow. 

With  boisterous  sweep,  I raise  my  voice  to  you. 
Where  are  your  stores,  ye  powerful  beings ! say* 
Where  your  aerial  magazines  reserv’d, 


WINTEK 


1S5 


To  swell  the  brooding  terrors  of  the  storm? 

In  what  far-distant  region  of  the  sky, 

Hush’d  in  deep  silence,  sleep  ye  when  ’tis  calm? 

When  from  the  pallid 'sky  the  sun  descends. 
With  many  a spot,  that  o'er  his  glaring  orb 
Uncertain  wanders,  stain’d;  red  fiery  streaks 
Begin  to  flush  around.  The  reeling  clouds 
Stagger  with  dizzy  poise,  as  doubting  yet 
Which  master  to  obey  : while  rising  slow. 

Blank,  in  the  leaden-colour’d  east,  the  moon 
Wears  a wan  circle  round  her  blunted  horns. 

Seen  through  the  turbid  fluctuating  air. 

The  stars  obtuse  emit  a shiver’d  ray; 

Or  frequent  seem  to  shoot  athwart  the  gloom. 

And  long  behind  them  trail  the  whitening  blaze. 
Snatch’d  in  short  eddies,  plays  the  wither'd  leaf, 
And  on  the  flood  the  dancing  feather  floats. 

With  broaden’d  nostrils  to  the  sky  up-turn’d, 

The  conscious  heifer  snuffs  the  stormy  gale. 

E’en  as  the  matron,  at  her  nightly  task. 

With  pensive  labour  draws  the  flaxen  thread, 
i’he  wasted  taper  and  the  crackling  flame 
Foretell  the  blast.  But  chief  the  plumy  race, 

The  tenants  of  the  sky,  its  changes  speak. 

Retiring  from  the  downs,  where  all  day  long 
They  pick’d  their  scanty  fare  a blackening  train 
Of  clamorous  rooks  thick  urge  their  w eary  flight, 
And  seek  the  closing  shelter  of  the  grove. 

Assiduo  jp  ra  his  bower,  the  wailing  owl 
Plies  his  saa  sons*.  The  cormorant  on  high 
Wheels  from  the  deep,  and  screams  along  the  land. 


186 


WlNTEl? 


Loud  shrieks  the  soaring’  hern ; and  with  wild  wing 
The  circling  sea-fowl  cleave  the  flaky  clouds. 

Ocean,  unequal  press’d,  with  broken  tide 

And  blind  commotion  heaves ; while  from  the  shore 

Eat  into  caverns  by  the  restless  wave, 

And  forest-rustling  mountain,  comes  a voice, 

.rhat  solemn  sounding  bids  the  world  prepare. 

Then  issues  forth  the  storm  with  sudden  burst. 

And  hurls  the  whole  precipitated  air, 

Down  in  a torrent.  On  the  passive  main 
Descends  the  ethereal  force,  and  with  strong  gust 
Turns  from  its  bottom  the  discolour’d  deep. 

Through  the  black  night  that  sits  immense  around, 
Lash’d  into  foam,  the  fierce  conflicting  brine 
Seems  o’er  a thousand  raging  waves  to  burn : 
Meantime  the  mountain-billows,  to  the  clouds 
fn  dreadful  tumult  swell’d,  surge  above  surge, 

Burst  into  chaos  with  tremendous  roar, 

And  anchor’d  navies  from  their  stations  drive, 

Wild  as  the  winds  across  the  howling  waste 
Of  mighty  waters : now  th’  inflated  wave 
Straining  they  scale,  and  now  impetuous  shoot 
Into  the  secret  chambers  of  the  deep. 

The  wintry  Baltic  thundering  o’er  their  head. 
Emerging  thence  again,  before  the  breath 
Of  full-exerted  heaven  they  wing  their  course, 

And  dart  on  distant  coasts  ; if  some  sharp  rock, 

Or  shoal  insiduous,  break  not  their  career. 

And  in  loose  fragments  fling  them  floating  round 
Nor  less  at  land  the  loosen’d  tempest  reigns. 

The  mountain  thunders ; and  its  sturdy  sons 


WINTER. 


387 


Stoop  to  the  bottom  of  the  rocks  they  shade. 

Lone  on  the  midnigtit  steep,  and  all  aghast, 

The  dark  wayfaring  stranger  breathless  toils, 

And,  often  falling,  climbs  against  the  blast. 

Low  waves  the  rooted  forest,  vex’d,  and  sheds 
What  of  its  tarnish’d  honours  yet  remain ; 

Dash’d  down,  and  scatter’d,  by  the  tearing  wind’s 
Assiduous  fury,  its  gigantic  limbs. 

Thus  struggling  through  the  dissipated  grove. 

The  whirling  tempest  raves  along  the  plain; 

And  on  the  cottage  thatch’d,  or  lordly  roof. 
Keen-fastening,  shakes  them  to  the  solid  base. 

Sleep  frighted  flies;  and  round  the  rocking  dome, 
For  entrance  eager,  howls  the  savage  blast. 

Then  too,  they  say,  through  all  the  burden’d  air, 
Long  groans  are  heard,  shrill  sounds,  and  distant 
That,  utter’d  by  the  demon  of  the  night,  [sighs, 
Warn  the  devoted  wretch  of  wo  and  death. 

Huge  uproar  lords  it  wide.  The  clouds  commix'd 
With  stars  swift  gliding  sweep  along  the  sky. 

All  Nature  reels.  Till  Nature’s  King,  who  oft 
Amid  tempestuous  darkness  dwells  alone. 

And  on  the  wings  of  the  careering  wind 
Walks  dreadfully  serene,  commands  a calm  ; 

Then  straight,  air,  sea,  and  earth,  are  hush’d  at  once. 

As  yet  ’tis  midnight  deep.  The  weary  clouds, 
Slow-meeting,  mingle  into  solid  gloom. 

Now,  while  the  drowsy  world  lies  lost  in  sleep, 

Let  me  associate  with  the  serious  Night, 

And  Contemplation,  her  sedate  compeer ; 


188 


WINTER. 


Let  me  shake  off  the  intrusive  cares  of  day> 

And  lay  the  meddling-  senses  all  aside 
Where  now,  ye  lying  vanities  of  life! 

Ye  ever-tempting,  ever-cheating  train! 

Where  are  you  now?  and  what  is  your  amount? 
Vexation,  disappointment,  and  remorse. 

Sad,  sickening  thought!  and  yet,  deluded  man, 

A scene  of  crude  disjointed  visions  past, 

And  broken  slumbers,  rises  still  resolv’d; 

With  new-flush ’d  hopes,  to  run  the  giddy  round. 

Father  of  light  and  life,  thou  Good  Supreme 
O teach  me  what  is  good  ! teach  me  Thyself ! 

Save  me  from  folly,  vanity,  and  vice, 

From  every  low  pursuit ; and  feed  ray  soul 
With  knowledge,  conscious  peace,  and  virtue  pure  ; 
Sacred,  substantial,  never-fading  bliss! 

The  keener  tempests  rise : and  fuming  dun 
From  all  the  livid  east,  or  piercing  north. 

Thick  clouds  ascend ; in  whose  capacious  womb 
A vapoury  deluge  lies,  to  snow  congeal’d. 

Heavy  they  roll  their  fleecy  world  along  ; 

And  the  sky  saddens  with  the  gather’d  storm. 

Thro’  the  hush’d  air  the  whitening  shower  descends, 
At  first  thin  wavering ; till  at  last  the  flakes 
Fall  broad,  and  wide,  and  fast,  dimming  the  day 
With  a continual  flow.  The  cherish’d  fields 
Fut  on  their  winter-robe  of  purest  white. 

1 is  brightness  all ; save  where  the  new  snow  melts 
AtuosT  the  mazy  current.  I^ow.  the  woods 

their  hoar  nead;  and,  ere  the  languid  sun 


WINTER. 


189 


Faint  from  the  west  emits  his  evening  ray, 

Earth’s  universal  face,  deep  hid,  and  chill, 

Is  one  wild  dazzling  waste,  that  buries  wide 
The  works  of  man.  Drooping,  the  labour  er-ox 
Stands  cover’d  o’er  with  snow,  and  then  demands 
The  fruit  of  all  his  toil.  The  fowls  of  heaven, 
Tam’d  by  the  cruel  season,  crowd  around 
The  winnowing  store,  and  claim  the  little  boon 
Which  Providence  assigns  them.  One  alone. 

The  red-breast,  sacred  to  the  household  gods, 

Wisely  regardful  of  th’  embroiling  sky, 

[n  joyless  fields,  and  thorny  thickets  leaves 
His  shivering  mates,  and  pays  to  trusted  man 
His  annual  visit.  Half-afraid,  he  first 
Against  the  window  beats;  then,  brisk,  alights 
On  the  warm  hearth ; then,  hopping  o’er  the  floor, 
Eyes  all  the  smiling  family  askance. 

And  pecks,  and  starts,  and  wonders  where  he  is: 

Till  more  familiar  grown,  the  table-crumbs 
Attract  his  slender  feet.  The  foodless  wilds 
Pour  forth  their  brown  inhabitants.  The  hare, 
Though  timorous  of  heart,  and  hard  beset 
By  death  in  various  forms,  dark  snares,  and  dogs. 
And  more  unpitying  men,  the  garden  seeks. 

Urg’d  on  by  fearless  want.  The  bleating  kind 
Eye  the  bleak  heaven,  and  next  the  glistening  earth, 
W’^ith  looks  of  dumb  despair  ; then  sad  dispers’d, 
Dig  for  the  wither’d  herb  through  heaps  of  snow. 

Now,  shepherds,  to  your  helpless  charge  be  kind; 
Baffle  the  raging  year,  and  fill  their  pens 
With  food  at  will;  lodge  them  below  the  storm, 


190 


WINTER. 


And  watch  them  strict:  for  from  the  belloi^ing  east" 
In  this  dire  season,  oft  the  whirlwind’s  w ing 
Sweeps  up  the  burden  of  whole  wintry  plains 
At  one  wide  waft;  and  o’er  the  hapless  flocks, 

Hid  in  the  hollow  of  two  neighbouring  hills, 

The  billowy  tempest  whelms;  till,  upward  urged, 

The  valley  to  a shining  mountain  swells, 

Tipt  with  a wreath  high-curling  in  the  sky. 

As  thus  the  snows  arise  ; and  foul,  and  fierce, 

All  Winter  drives  along  the  darken’d  air; 

In  his  own  loose-revolving  fields,  the  swain 
Disaster’d  stands  ; sees  other  hills  ascend. 

Of  unknov/n  joyless  brow  ; and  other  scenes, 

Of  horrid  prospect,  shag  the  trackless  plain; 

Nor  finds  the  river,  nor  the  forest  hid 
Beneath  the  formless  vvild;  but  wanders  on 
From  hill  to  dale,  still  more  and  more  astray; 
Impatient  flouncing  through  the  drifted  heaps, 

Stung  with  the  thoughts  of  home;  the  thoughts  of 
Rush  on  his  nerves,  and  call  their  vigour  forth  [home 
In  many  a vain  attempt.  How  sinks  his  soul! 

What  black  despair,  what  horror  fills  his  heart. 
When  for  the  dusky  spot,  which  fancy  feign’d 
His  tufted  cottage  rising  through  the  snow. 

He  meets  the  roughness  of  the  middle  waste. 

Far  from  the  track,  and  bless’d  abode  of  man; 

While  round  him  night  resistless  closes  fast. 

And  every  tempest,  howling  o’er  his  head, 

Renders  the  savage  w ilderness  more  wild. 

Then  throng  the  busy  shapes  into  his  mind. 

Of  cover’d  pits,  unfathomably  deep, 


WINTER, 


m 


K dire  descent ! beyond  the  power  of  frost ; 

Of  faithless  bogs  ; of  precipices  huge, 

Smooth’d  up  with  snow;  and,  what  is  land,  unknown, 
What  water,  of  the  still  unfrozen  spring, 

In  the  loose  marsh  or  solitary  lake, 

Where  the  fresh  fountain  from  the  bottom  boils. 
These  check  his  fearful  steps;  and  down  he  sinks 
Beneath  the  shelter  of  the  shapeless  drift, 

Thinking  o’er  ail  the  bitterness  of  death  ; 

Mix’d  with  the  tender  anguish  Nature  shoots 
Through  the  wrung  bosom  of  the  dying  man. 

His  wife,  his  children,  and  his  friends  unseen. 

In  vain  for  him  tlT  officious  wife  prepares 
The  fire  fair-blazing,  and  the  vestment  warm  * 

In  vain  his  little  children,  peeping  out 
Into  the  mingling  storm,  demand  their  sire, 

With  tears  of  artless  innocence.  Alas' 

Nor  wife,  nor  children,  more  shall  he  behold; 

Nor  friends,  nor  sacred  home.  On  every  nerve 
The  deadly  Winter  seizes;  shuts  up  sense; 

And,  o’er  his  inmost  vitals  creeping  cold, 

Lays  him  along  the  snows,  a stiffen’d  corse; 

Stretch’d  out,  and  bleaching  in  the  northern  blast. 

Ah!  little  think  the  gay  licentious  proud, 

Whom  pleasure,  power,  and  affluence  surround ; 
They,  who  their  thoughtless  hours  in  giddy  mirth, 
And  wanton,  often  cruel,  riot  waste; 

Ah!  little  think  they,  while  they  dance  along, 

How  many  feel,  this  very  moment,  death, 

And  all  the  sad  variety  of  pain. 


193 


WINTEK. 


How  many  sink  in  the  devouring*  flood, 

Or  more  devouring  flame.  How  many  bleed. 

By  shameful  variance  betwixt  man  and  man. 

How  many  pine  in  want,  and  dunffeon  glooms; 
Shut  from  the  com.j jn  air,  and  uO.A,non  use 
Of  their  own  limbs.  How  many  drink  the  cup 
Of  baleful  grief,  or  eat  the  bitter  bread 
Of  misery.  Sore  pierc’d  by  wintry  winds, 

Kow  many  shrink  into  the  sordid  hut 
Of  cheerless  poverty.  How  many  shake 
With  all  the  fiercer  tortures  of  the  mind. 
Unbounded  passion,  madness,  guilt,  remorse; 
Whence  tumbled  headlong  from  the  height  of  Iile, 
They  furnish  matter  for  the  tragic  Muse. 

E’en  in  the  vale,  where  Wisdom  loves  to  dwell, 
With  friendship,  peace,  and  contemplation  join’d. 
How  many,  rack’d  with  honest  passions,  droop 
In  deep  retir’d  distress.  How  many  stand 
Around  the  death-bed  of  their  dearest  friends, 

And  point  the  parting  anguish.  Thought  fond  Man 
Of  these,  and  all  the  thousand  nameless  ills 
That  one  incessant  struggle  render  life 
One  scene  of  toil,  of  suflering,  and  of  fate ; 

Vice  in  his  high  career  would  stand  appall’d, 

And  heedless  rambling  Impulse  learn  to  think; 

The  conscious  heart  of  Charity  would  warm, 

And  her  wide  wish  Benevolence  dilate ; 

The  social  tear  would  rise,  the  social  sigh ; 

And  into  clear  perfection.,  gradual  bliss, 

Refining  still,  the  social  passions  work. 


WINTER. 


193 


And  here  can  I forget  the  generous  band,* 

Who,  touch’d  with  human  wo,  redressive  search’d 
Into  the  horrors  of  the  gloomy  jail? 

Unpitied,  and  unheard,  where  misery  moans; 

Where  sickness  pines  ; where  thirst  and  hunger  burii; 
And  poor  misfortune  feels  the  lash  of  vice. 

While  in  the  land  of  Liberty,  the  land 
Whose  every  street  and  public  meeting  glow 
With  open  freedom,  little  tyrants  rag’d; 

Snatch’d  the  lean  morsel  from  the  starving  mouth; 
Tore  from  cold  wintry  limbs  the  tatter’d  weed; 

E’en  robb’d  them  of  the  last  of  comforts,  sleep ; 

The  freeborn  Briton  to  the  dungeon  chain’d. 

Or,  as  the  lust  of  cruelty  prevail’d. 

At  pleasure  mark’d  him  with  inglorious  stripes; 

And  crush’d  out  lives,  by  secret  barbarous  ways, 
That  for  their  country  would  have  toil’d,  or  bled. 

O great  design ! if  executed  well, 

With  patient  care,  and  wisdom-temper’d  zeal, 

Te  sons  of  Mercy!  yet  resume  the  search; 

Drag  forth  the  legal  monsters  into  light, 

Wrench  from  their  hands  oppression’s  iron  rod, 

And  bid  the  cruel  feel  the  pains  they  give. 

Much  still  untouch’d  remains  ; in  this  rank  age, 
Much  is  the  patriot’s  weeding  hand  requir’d. 

The  toils  of  law,  (what  dark  insidious  men 
Have  cumbrous  added  to  perplex  the  truth, 

And  lengthen  simple  justice  into  trade,) 

* The  Jail  Committee ^ in  the  year  1729. 

13  R 


VJA 


WIxVTER. 


How  glorious  were  the  day  that  saw  these  broke, 
And  every  man  within  the  reach  of  right! 

By  wintry  famine  rous’d,  from  all  the  tract 
Of  horrid  modntains  which  the  shining'  Alps, 

And  wavy  Appenine,  and  Pyrenees, 

Branch  out  stupendous  into  distant  lands ; 

Cruel  as  death,  and  hungry  as  the  grave ! 

Burning  for  blood  I bony,  and  gaunt,  and  grim! 
Assembling  wolves  in  raging  troops  descend; 

And,  pouring  o’er  the  country,  bear  along, 

Keen  as  the  north-wind  sw  eeps  the  gloSvSy  snow 
All  is  their  prize.  They  fasten  on  the  steed, 

Pi  css  him  to  earth,  and  pierce  his  mighty  heart. 

Nor  can  the  bull  his  awful  front  defend, 

Or  shake  the  murdering  savages  away. 

Bapacious,  at  the  mother’s  throat  they  fly. 

And  tear  the  screaming  infant  from  her  breast. 

The  godlike  face  of  man  avails  him  nought. 

E'en  beauty,  force  divine!  at  whose  bright  glan.:e 
The  generous  lion  stands  in  soften’d  gaze. 

Here  bleeds,  a hapless  undistinguish’d  prey. 

But  if,  appriz’d  of  the  severe  attack. 

The  country  be  shut  up;  lur’d  by  the  scent, 
ihi  churchyards  drear  (inhuman  to  relate!) 

The  disappointed  prowlers  fall,  and  dig 
The  shrouded  body  from  the  grave;  o’er  w hich, 
Ivlix’d  with  foul  shades,  and  frighted  ghosts,  they 
Among  those  hilly  regions,  where,  embrac’d  ['howl. 
In  peaceful  vales,  the  happy  Orisons  dwell; 

Oft,  rusliing", Sudden  from  the  loaded  cliffs. 

Mountains  of  snow  their  gathering  terrors  roll 


WlNTKPc. 


105 


From  steep  to  steep,  loud  thundering  down  they  come, 
A wintry  waste  in  dire  commotion  all : 

And  herds  and  flocks,  and  travellers  and  swains, 
And  sometimes  whole  brigades  of  marching  troops, 
Or  hamlets  sleeping  in  the  dead  of  night. 

Are  deep  beneath  the  smothering  ruin  whelm’d. 

Now,  ail  amid  the  rigours  of  the  year, 

In  the  wild  depth  of  Winter,  while  without 
The  ceaseless  winds  blow  ice,  be  my  retreat, 
Setween  the  groaning  forest  and  the  shore 
Beat  by  the  boundless  multitude  of  waves ; 

A rural,  shelter’d,  solitary,  scene ; 

Where  ruddy  Are  and  beaming  tapers  join 
To  cheer  the  gloom.  There  studious  let  me  sit, 

And  hold  high  converse  with  the  mighty  Dead  * 

Sages  of  ancient  time,  as  gods  rever’d; 

As  gods  beneficent,  who  bless’d  mankind 
AVlth  arts,  with  arms,  and  humaniz’d  a world. 
Rous’d  at  th’  inspiring  thought,  I throw  aside 
The  long-liv'd  volume;  and,  deep-musing,  hail 
The  sacred  shades,  that  slowly  rising  pass 
Before  my  wondering  eyes.  First  Socrates, 

Wlio,  firmly  good  in  a corrupted  state. 

Against  the  rage  of  tyrants  single  stood, 

Invincible!  calm  Reason’s  holy  law, 

Tiiat  Voice  of  God  within  th’  attentive  mind, 
Obeying,  fearless,  or  in  life,  or  death. 

Great  moral  teacher ! Wisest  of  mankind ! 

Solon  the  next;  who  built  his  common-weal 
On  equity’s  wide  base;  by  tender  laws 
A lively  people  curbing,  yet  undarap’d ; 


196 


WINTER 


Preserving  still  that  quick  peculiar  fire, 

Whence  in  the  laurel’d  field  of  finer  arts. 

And  of  bold  freedom,  they  unequall’d  shone ; 

The  pride  of  smiling  Greece,  and  human  kind 
Lycurgus  then,  who  bow’d  beneath  the  force. 

Of  strictest  discipline,  severely  wise, 

All  human  passions.  Following  him,  I see, 

As  at  Thermopylaj  he  glorious  fell. 

The  firm  devoted  Chief,*  who  prov’d  by  deeds 
The  hardest  lesson  which  the  other  taught. 

Then  Aristides  lifts  his  honest  front ; 

Spotless  of  heart,  to  whom  th’  unflattering  voice 
Of  freedom  gave  the  noblest  name  of  Just; 

In  pure  majestic  poverty  rever’d ; 

Who,  e’en  his  glory  to  his  country's  weal 
Submitting,  swell’ d a haughty  rival’st  fame. 
Rear’d  by  his  care,  of  softer  ray  appears 
Cimon  sweet-soul’d ; whose  genius,  rising  strong, 
Shook  ofi*  the  load  of  young  debauch;  abroad 
The  scourge  of  Persian  pride,  at  home  the  friena 
Of  every  worth  and  every  splendid  art; 

Modest,  and  simple,  in  the  pomp  of  wealth. 

Then  tne  last  worthies  of  declining  Greece, 

Late  call’d  to  glory,  in  unequal  times. 

Pensive,  appear.  The  fair  Corinthian  boast, 
Timoleon,  happy  temper!  mild,  and  firm, 

Who  wept  the  brother  while  the  tyrant  bled. 

And  equal  to  the  best,  the  Theban  Pair,! 

* Leonidas.  t Thtmktocle* 

t i^dopidas  and  Epaminondas 


WINTER. 


197 


Whose  virtues,  in  heroic  concord  join’d, 

Their  country'  rais’d  to  freedom,  empire,  fame. 

He  too,  with  whom  Athenian  honour  sunk, 

And  left  a mass  of  sordid  lees  behind, 

Phocion  the  Good;  in  public  life  severe, 

To  virtue  still  inexorably  firm  ; 

But  when,  beneath  his  low  illustrious  roof, 

Sweet  peace  and  happy  wisdom  smooth’d  his  biow, 
Not  friendship  softer  was,  nor  love  more  kind. 

And  he,  the  last  of  old  Lycurgus’  sons. 

The  generous  victim  to  that  vain  attempt. 

To  save  a rotten  state,  Agis,  who  saw 
E’en  Sparta’s  self  to  servile  avarice  sunk. 

The  two  Achaian  heroes  close  the  train  ; 

Aratiis,  who  awhile  relum’d  the  said 
Of  fondly-lingering  liberty  in  Greece, 

And  he  her  darling  as  her  latest  hope, 

The  gallant  Philopoemen;  who  to  arms 
Turn’d  the  luxurious  pomp  he  could  not  cure ; 

Or  toiling  in  his  farm,  a simple  swain  ; 

Or,  bold  and  skilful,  thundering  in  the  field. 

Of  wugher  front,  a mi<rhty  people  come. 

A race  of  heroes ! in  thch^-'  virtuous  times 
Which  knew  no  stain,  save  that  with  partial  fiam 
Their  dearest  country  they  too  fondly  lov’d  : 

Her  better  founder  first,  the  light  of  Rome, 

Numa,  who  soften’d  her  rapacious  sons: 

Servius  the  king,  who  laid  the  solid  base 
On  which  o’er  earth  the  vast  republic  sprea 
Then  the  great  consuls  venerabie  rise. 

R -2 


198 


WINTER. 


The  public  Father*  who  the  private  quell’d, 

As  o-n  the  dread  tribunal  sternly  sad. 

He,  whom  his  thankless  country  could  not  lose, 
Camillus,  only  vengeful  to  her  foes. 

Fabricius,  scorner  of  all-conquering  gold ; 

And  Cincinnatus,  awful  from  the  plough. 

Thy  willing  victim,!  Carthage,  bursting  loose 
From  all  that  pleading  Nature  could  oppose, 

From  a whole  city’s  tears,  by  rigid  faith 
Imperious  call’d,  and  honour’s  dire  command. 
Scipio,  the  gentle  chief,  humanely  brave ; 

Who  soon  the  race  of  spotless  glory  ran. 

And,  warm  in  youth,  to  the  poetic  shade 
With  Friendship  and  Philosophy  retir’d. 

Tully,  whose  powerful  eloquence  awhile 
Restrain’d  the  rapid  fate  of  rushing  Rome. 
Unconquer’d  Cato,  virtuous  in  extreme  : 

And  thou,  unhappy  Brutus,  kind  of  heart ; 

Whose  steady  arm,  by  awful  virtue  urg’d. 

Lifted  the  Roman  steel  against  thy  friend. 
Thousands,  besides,  the  tribute  of  a verse 
Demand;  but  who  can  count  the  stars  of  heaven  ? 
Who  sing  their  influence  on  this  lower  world  ? 

Behold,  who  yonder  comes ! in  sober  state, 

Fair,  mild,  and  strong,  as  is  a vernal  sun : 

’Tis  Pheebus’  self,  or  else  the  Mantuan  swain  ! 
Gr<>at  Homer  too  appears,  of  daring  wing. 

Parent  of  song!  and  equal  by  his  side, 

* Mai’cus  Junius  Brutus.  f Re^uius. 


WINTER. 


199 


The  British  Muse:  join’d  hand  in  hand  they  walk, 
Darkling,  full  up  the  middle  steep  to  fame. 

Nor  absent  arc  those  shades,  whose  skilful  touch 
Pathetic  drew  th’  impassion’d  heart,  and  charm’d 
Transported  Athens  with  the  moral  scene  : 

Nor  those  who,  tuneful,  wak’d  the  enchanting  lyre. 

First  of  your  kind,  society  divine  ! 

Still  visit  thus  my  nights,  for  you  reserv’d. 

And  mount  my  soaring  soul  to  thoughts  like  yours. 
Silence,  thou  lonely  power  I the  door  be  thine ; 

See  on  the  hallow’d  hour  that  none  intrude, 

Save  a few  chosen  friends,  who  sometimes  deign 
To  bless  my  humble  roof,  with  sense  reiin’d, 
Learning  digested  well,  exalted  faith, 

Unstudied  wit,  and  humour  ever  gay. 

Or  from  the  IMiises’  hill  will  Pope  descend. 

To  raise  the  sacred  hour,  to  bid  it  smile. 

And  with  the  social  spirit  warm  the  heart: 

For  though  not  sweeter  his  own  Ilomer  sings, 

Yet  is  his  life  the  more  endearing  song. 

Where  art  thou,  Hammond  ? thou,  the  darling  pride, 
The  friend  and  lover  of  the  tuneful  throng ! 

Ah ! why,  dear  youth,  in  all  the  blooming  prime 
Of  vernal  genius,  where  disclosing  fast 
Each  active  worth,  each  manly  virtue  lay, 

Why  wert  thou  ravish’d  from  our  hope  so  soon  ? 
What  now  avails  that  noble  thirst  of  fame, 

Which  stung  thy  fervent  breast  ? that  treasur’d  store 
Of  knowledge,  early  gain’d.^  that  eager  zeal 
To  serve  thy  country,  glowing  in  the  band 
Of  youthful  patriots,  who  sustain  her  name.^ 


1200 


WINTER. 


What  now,  alas!  that  life-diffusing  charnu 
Of  sprightly  wit?  that  rapture  for  the  MusOi 
That  heart  of  friendship,  and  that  soul  of  joy, 

Which  bade  with  softest  light  thy  virtues  smile. 

Ah  1 only  show’d,  to  check  our  fond  pursuits, 

And  teach  our  humbled  hopes  that  life  is  vain ! 

Thus  in  some  deep  retirement  would  I pass 
The  Winter  glooms,  with  friends  of  pliant  soul. 

Or  blithe,  or  solemn,  as  the  theme  inspir’d  : 

With  them  would  search,  if  Nature’s  boundless  frame 
Was  call’d,  late-rising  from  the  void  of  night, 

Or  sprung  eternal  from  th’  Eternal  Mind ; 

Its  life,  its  laws,  its  progress,  and  its  end. 

Hence  larger  prospects  of  the  beauteaus  whole 
W ould,  gradual,  open  on  our  opening  minds  j 
And  each  diffusive  harmony  unite 
In  full  perfection  to  th’  astonished  eye. 

Then  would  we  try  to  scan  the  moral  world, 

Which,  though  to  us  it  seems  embroil’d,  moves  on 
In  higher  order;  fitted,  and  impell’d. 

By  Wisdom’s  finest  hand,  and  issuing  all 
In  general  good.  The  sage  historic  Muse 
Should  next  conduct  us  through  the  deeps  of  time : 
Show  us  how  empire  grew,  declin’d,  and  fell. 

In  scatter’d  states;  what  makes  the  nations  smile  j 
Improves  their  soil,  and  gives  them  double  suns; 

And  why  they  pine  beneath  the  brightest  skies, 

In  Nature’s  richest  lap.  As  thus  we  talk’d, 

Our  hearts  would  burn  within  us,  would  inhale 

That  portion  of  divinity,  that  ray 

Of  purest  heaven,  which  lights  the  public  soul 


WINTEH, 


201 


Of  patriots,  and  of  heroes.  But  if  doom’d, 

In  powerless  humble  fortune,  to  repress 
These  ardent  risings  of  the  kindling  soul ; 

Then,  e’en  superior  to  ambition,  we 
Would  learn  the  private  virtues ; how  to  glide 
Thro’  shades  and  plains,  along  the  smoothest  stream 
Of  rural  life : or  snatch’d  away  by  hope. 

Through  the  dim  spaces  of  futurity, 

With  earnest  eye  anticipate  those  scenes 
Of  happiness  and  wonder,  where  the  mind. 

In  endless  growth  and  infinite  ascent. 

Rises  from  state  to  state,  and  world  to  world. 

But  when  with  these  the  serious  thought  is  foil’d, 
We,  shifting  for  relief,  would  play  the  shapes 
Of  frolic  fancy  j and  incessaiit  form 
Those  rapid  pictures,  that  assembled  train 
Of  fleet  ideas,  never  join’d  before; 

Whence  lively  Wit  excites  to  gay  surprise, 

Or  folly-painting  Humour,  grave  himself. 

Calls  Laughter  forth,  deep-shaking  every  nerve. 

Meantime  the  village  rouses  up  the  fire ; 

While,  well  attested,  and  as  well  believ’d. 

Heard  solemn,  goes  the  goblin  story  round; 

Till  superstitious  horror  creeps  o’er  all. 

Or,  frequent  in  the  sounding  hall,  they  wake 
The  rural  gambol.  Rustic  mirth  goes  round ; 

The  simple  joke  that  takes  the  shepherd’s  heart, 
Easily  pleas’d;  the  long  loud  laugh,  sincere ; 

The  kiss,  snatch’d  hasty  from  the  side-long  maid. 

On  purpose  guardless,  or  pretending  sleep. 

The  leap,  the  slap,  the  haul;  and,  shook  to  notes 


9M 


WINTER. 


Of  native  music,  the  respondent  dance. 

Thus  jocund  fletis  with  them  the  winter-night. 

The  city  swarms  intense.  The  public  haunt, 

Full  of  each  theme,  and  warm  with  mix’d  discourse- 
Hums  indistinct.  The  sons  of  riot  flow 
Down  the  loose  stream  of  false  enchanted  joy 
To  swift  destruction.  On  the  rankled  soul 
The  gaming  fury  fails ; and  in  one  gulf, 

Of  total  ruin,  honour,  virtue,  peace. 

Friends,  families,  and  fortune,  headlong  sink. 

Up  springs  the  dance  along  the  lighted  dome, 

Mix’d,  and  evolv’d,  a thousand  sprightly  ways. 

The  glittering  court  effuses  every  pomp ; 

The  circle  deepens:  beam’d  from  gaudy  robes, 
Tapers,  and  sparkling  gems,  and  radiant  eyes, 

A soft  effulgence  o’er  the  palace  waves: 

While,  a gay  insect  in  his  summer  shine, 

The  fop,  light-fluttering,  spreads  his  mealy  wings. 

Dread  o’er  the  scene  the  ghost  of  Hamlet  stalks  * 
Othello  rages;  poor  Monimia  mourns^ 

And  Belvidera  pours  her  soul  in  love. 

Terror  alarms  the  breast;  the  comely  tear 
Steals  o’er  the  cheek:  or  else  the  Comic  Muse 
Holds  to  the  world  a picture  of  itself. 

And  raises  sly  the  fair  impartial  laugh. 

Sometimes  she  lifts  her  strain,  and  paints  the  scenes 
Of  beauteous  life;  whate’er  can  deck  mankind, 

Or  charm  the  heart,  in  generous  Bevil*  show’d. 

* A character  in  The  Conscious  Loversj  written  by 
Sir  R.  Steele. 


WINTER. 


203 


0 Iliou,  whose  wisdom,  solid,  yet  refin’d, 

Whose  patriot-virtues,  and  consummate  skill 
To  touch  the  finer  springs  that  move  the  w^orld, 
Join’d  to  whate’er  the  Graces  can  bestow, 

And  all  Apollo’s  animating  fire, 

Give  thee,  with  pleasing  dignity,  to  shine 
At  once  the  guardian,  ornament,  and  joy, 

Of  polish’d  life;  permit  the  rural  Muse, 

O Chesterfield ! to  grace  with  thee  her  song. 

Ere  to  the  shades  again  she  humbly  flies, 

Indulge  her  fond  ambition,  m iny  train, 

(For  every  Muse  has  in  thy  train  a place,) 

To  mark  thy  various  full-accomplish’d  mind: 

To  mark  that  spirit,  which,  with  British  scoro. 
Rejects  th’  allurements  of  corrupted  power; 

That  elegant  politeness,  which  excels. 

E’en  in  the  judgment  of  presumptuous  France, 

The  boasted  manners  of  her  shining  court; 

That  wit,  the  vivid  energy  of  sense, 

The  truth  of  Nature,  which,  with  Attic  point. 

And  kind  well-temper’d  satire,  smoothly  keer.i 
Steals  through  the  soul,  and  without  pain  correi'ts, 
Or,  rising  thence  with  yet  a brighter  flame. 

O let  me  hail  thee  on  some  glorious  day. 

When  to  the  listening  senate,  ardent,  crowd 
Britannia’s  sons  to  hear  her  pleaded  cause. 

Then  dress’d  by  thee,  more  amiably  fair. 

Truth  the  soft  robe  of  mild  persuasion  wears  : 

Thou  to  assenting  reason  giv’st  asrain 

Her  own  enlighten’d  thoughts ; call’d  from  the  ht^n, 

I'll’  obedient  passions  on  thy  voice  attend ; 


204 


WINTER. 


And  e’en  reluctant  party  feels  awhile 
Thy  gracious  power : as  through  the  varied  maze 
Of  eloquence,  now  smooth,  now  quick,  now  strong, 
Profound,  and  clear,  you  roll  the  copious  flood. 

To  thy  lov’d  haunt  return,  my  happy  Muse  : 

For  now,  behold,  the  joyous  winter  days, 

Frosty,  succeed;  and  through  the  blue  serene, 

For  sight  too  fine,  th’  ethereal  nitre  flies; 

Killing  infectious  damps,  and  the  spent  air 
Storing  afresh  with  elemental  life. 

Close  crowds  the  shining  atmosphere;  and  binds 
Our  strengthen’d  bodies  in  its  cold  embrace, 
Constringent;  feeds,  and  animates  our  blood ; 
Refines  our  spirits,  through  the  new-strung  nerves, 

In  swifter  sallies  darting  to  the  brain; 

Where  sits  the  soul,  intense,  collected,  cool, 

Bright  as  the  skies,  and  as  the  season  keen. 

All  Nature  feels  the  renovating  force 
Of  Winter,  only  to  the  thoughtless  eye 
In  ruin  seen.  The  frost-concocted  glebe 
Draws  in  abundant  vegetable  soul. 

And  gathers  vigour  for  the  coming  year. 

A stronger  glow  sits  on  the  lively  cheek 
Of  ruddy  fire : and  luculent  along 
The  purer  rivers  flow ; their  sullen  deeps, 
Transparent,  open  to  the  shepherd’s  gaze, 

And  murmur  hoarser  at  the  fixing  frost. 

What  art  thou,  frost  and  whence  are  thy  keen 
Deriv’d,  thou  secret  all-invading  power ! [stores 
Whom  e’en  th’  illusive  fluid  cannot  fly  ? 

Is  not  thy  potent  energy,  unseen, 


WINTER, 


^05 


Myriads  of  little  salts,  or  hook’d,  or  shap’d 
Like  double  wedges,  and  diffus’d  immense 
Through  water,  earth,  and  ether  ? hence  at  eve. 
Steam’d  eager  from  the  red  horizon  round, 

With  the  fierce  rage  of  Winter  deep  isuffiis’d, 

An  icy  gale,  oft  shifting,  o’er  the  pool 
Breathes  a blue  film,  and  in  its  mid  career 
Arrests  the  bickering  stream.  The  loosen’d  ice, 
Let  down  the  flood,  and  half  dissolv’d  by  day. 
Rustles  no  more;  but  to  the  sedgy  bank 
Fast  grows;  or  gathers  round  the  pointed  stone, 

A crystal  pavement,  by  the  breath  of  heaven 
Cemented  firm;  till,  seiz’d  from  shore  to  shore, 
The  whole  imprison’d  river  growls  below. 

Loud  rings  the  frozen  earth,  and  hard  reflects 
A double  noise;  while,  at  his  evening  watch, 

The  village  dog  deters  the  nightly  thief; 

The  heifer  lows ; the  distant,  waterfall 
Swells  in  the  breeze;  and,  with  the  hasty  tread 
Of  traveller,  the  hollow  sounding  plain 
Shakes  from  afar.  The  full  ethereal  rounds 
Infinite  worlds  disclosing  to  the  view, 

Shines  out  intensely  keen;  and,  all  one  cope 
Of  starry  glitter,  glows  from  pole  to  pole. 

From  pole  to  pole  the  rigid  influence  falls, 
Through  the  still  night,  incessant,  heavy,  strong. 
And  seizes  Nature  fast.  It  freezes  on; 

Till  morn,  late  rising  o’er  the  drooping  world, 
Lifts  her  pale  eye  unjoyous.  Then  appears 
The  various  labour  of  the  silent  night: 

Prone  from  the  dripping  eave,  and  dumb  cascade, 


206 


WINTER. 


Whose  idle  torrents  onlj  seem  to  roar 
The  pendent  icicle ; the  frost-work  fair, 

Where  transient  hues,  and  fancied  fig^iires  rise; 
Wide  spouted  o’er  the  hill,  the  frozen  brook, 

A livid  tract,  told  gleaming  on  the  morn ; 

The  forest  bent  beneath  the  plumy  wave; 

And  by  the  frost  refin’d  the  whiter  snow, 

Incrusted  hard,  and  sounding  to  the  tread 
Of  early  shepherd,  as  he  pensive  seeks 
His  pining  flock;  or  from  the  mountain-top, 

Pleas’d  with  the  slippery  surface,  swift  descends 

On  blithsome  frolics  bent,  the  youthful  swains, 
While  every  work  of  man  is  laid  at  rest, 

Fond  o’er  the  river  crowd,  in  various  sport 
And  revelry  dissolv’d;  where  mixing  glad, 
Happiest  of  all  the  train!  the  raptur’d  boy 
Lashes  the  whirling  top.  Or,  where  the  Rhine, 
Branch’d  out,  in  many  a long  canal  extends. 

From  every  province  swarming,  void  of  care, 
Batavia  rushes  forth  ; and  as  they  sweep, 

On  sounding  skates,  a thousand  difierent  ways, 

In  circling  poise,  swift  as  the  winds,  alongf 
The  then  gay  land  is  madden’d  all  to  joy. 

Nor  less  the  northern  courts,  wide  o’er  the  snow, 
Pour  a new  pomp.  Eager,  on  rapid  sleds, 

Their  vigorous  youth  in  bold  contention  wheel 
The  long-resounding  course.  Meantime,  to  raise 
The  manly  strife,  with  highly-blooming  charms, 
Flush’d  by  the  season,  Scandinavia’s  dames, 

Or  Russia’s  buxom  daughters,  glow  around. 

Pure,  quick,  and  sportful,  is  the  wholesome  day 


WINTER. 


207 


vrjort  f ians’d.  Ttie  Iiorizontal  suu, 
bfoml  o er  the  south,  han^s  at  his  utmost  noon ; 
Ana,  ineffectual,  strikes  the  gelid  cliff* 

His  azure  gloss  the  mountain  still  maintains, 

Nor  feels  the  feeble  touch.  Perhaps  the  vale 
Relents  a while  to  the  reflected  ray ; 

Or  from  the  forest  falls  the  cluster’d  snow, 
Myriads  of  gems,  that  in  the  waving  gleam 
Gay  twinkle  as  they  scatter.  Thick  around 
Thunders  the  sport  of  those,  who  with  the  gun, 
And  dog  impatient  bounding  at  the  shot. 

Worse  than  the  Season,  desolate  the  fields; 

And,  adding  to  the  ruins  of  the  year. 

Distress  the  footed  or  the  feather’d  game. 

But  what  19  this.^  Our  infant  Winter  siv.ks, 
Divested  of  his  grandeur,  should  our  eye 
Astonish’d  shoot  into  the  frigid  zone; 

Where,  for  relentless  months,  continual  Night 
Holds  o’er  the  glittering  waste  her  starry  reign. 

There,  through  the  prison  of  unbounded  wilds, 
Barr’d  by  the  hand  of  Nature  from  escape. 

Wide  roams  the  Russian  exile.  Nought  around 
Strikes  his  sad  eye  but  deserts  lost  in  snow*; 

And  heavy-loaded  groves;  and  solid  floo  is, 

That  stretch,  athwart  the  solitary  vast, 

Their  icy  horrors  to  the  frozen  main ; 

And  cheerless  towms  far-distant,  never  blcss’d^ 
Save  when  its  annual  course  the  caravan 
Bends  to  the  golden  coast  of  rich  Cathay/ 


The  old  name  for  China, 


208 


WINTER, 


With  news  of  human-kind.  Yet  there  life  glows ; 

Ifet  cherished  there,  beneath  the  shining  waste, 

The  furry  nations  harbour:  tipp’d  with  jet, 

F air  ermines,  spotless  as  the  snows  they  press  ; 
Sables,  of  glossy  black;  and  dark-embrovvn’a, 

Or  beauteous  freak’d  with  many  a mingled  hue, 
Thousands  besides,  the  costly  pride  of  courts. 

There  warm  together  press’d,  the  trooping  deer 
Sleep  on  the  new-fall’n  snows;  and,  scarce  his  head 
Rais’d  o’er  the  heapy  wreath,  the  branching  elk 
Lies  slumbering  sullen  in  the  white  abyss. 

The  ruthless  hunter  wants  nor  dogs  nor  toils ; 

Nor  with  the  dread  of  sounding  bows  he  drives 
The  fearful  flying  race ; with  pond’rous  clubs, 

As  weak  against  the  mountain  heaps  they  push 
Their  beating  breast  in  vain,  and  piteous  bray, 

He  lays  them  quivering  on  th’  ensanguin’d  snows; 
And  with  loud  shouts,  rejoicing,  bears  them  home 
There  through  the  piny  forest  half  absorpt. 

Rough  tenant  of  these  shades,  the  shapeless  bear, 
With  dangling  ice  all  horrid,  stalks  forlorn ; 
Slow-pac’d,  and  sourer  as  the  storms  increase, 

He  makes  his  bed  beneath  th’  inclement  drift, 

And,  with  stern  patience,  scorning  weak  complaint, 
Hardens  his  heart  against  assailing  want. 

Wide  o’er  the  spacious  regions  of  the  north, 

That  see  Bootes  urge  his  tardy  wain, 

A boisterous  race,  by  frosty  Caurus*  pierc’d, 

Who  little  pleasure  know,  and  fear  no  pain, 


T/ie  Korlh-west  wind. 


WINTER. 


209 


Prolific  swarm.  They  once  relum’d  the  flame 
Of  lost  mankind  in  polish’d  slavery  sunk; 

Drove  martial  horde  on  horde,*  with  dreadful  sweep 
Resistless  rushing"  o’er  th’  enfeebled  south, 

And  gave  the  vanquish’d  world  another  form. 

Not  such  the  sons  of  Lapland : wisely  they 
Despise  th’  insensate  barbarous  trade  of  war ; 

They  ask  no  more  than  simple  Nature  gives. 

They  love  their  mountains,  and  enjoy  their  storms. 
No  false  desires,  no  pride-created  wants. 

Disturb  the  peaceful  current  of  their  time  ; 

And  through  the  restless  ever-tortur’d  maze 
Of  pleasure,  or  ambition,  bid  it  rage. 

Their  rein-deer  form  their  riches.  These,  their  tents, 
Their  robes,  their  beds,  and  all  their  homely  wealth 
Supply,  their  wholesome  fare,  and  cheerful  c^ips 
Obsequious  at  their  call,  the  docile  tribe 
Yield  to  the  sled  their  necks,  and  whirl  them  swift 
O’er  hill  and  dale,  heap’d  into  one  expanse 
Of  marbled  snow,  as  far  as  eye  can  sweep. 

With  a blue  crust  of  ice  unbounded  glaz’d. 

By  dancing  meteors  then,  that  ceaseless  shake 
A waving  blaze  refracted  o’er  the  heavens. 

And  vivid  moons,  and  stars  that  keener  play 
With  double  lustre  from  the  glossy  waste ; 

E’en  in  the  depth  of  polar  night,  they  find 
A w'ondrous  day : enough  to  light  the  chase. 

Or  guide  their  daring  steps  to  Finland  fairs. 

Wish’d  Spring  returns  ; and  from  the  hazy  south. 
While  dim  Aurora  slowly  moves  before, 

14  * The  wandering  Scythian  cla^u. 


210 


WINTER. 


The  welcome  sun,  just  verging  up  at  first, 

By  small  degrees  extends  the  swelling  cui  ve ; 

Till  seen  at  last  for  gay  rejoicing  months, 

Still  round  and  round,  his  spiral  course  he  winds ; 

And  as  he  nearly  dips  his  flaming  orb, 

Wheels  up  again,  and  re-ascends  the  sky. 

In  that  glad  season,  from  the  lakes  and  floods, 

Where  pure  Niemi’s^  fairy  mountains  rise, 

And,  fring’d  with  roses,  Tengliof  rolls  his  stream, 
They  draw  the  copious  fry.  With  these,  at  eve, 
They,  cheerful  loaded,  to  their  tents  repair ; 

Where,  all  day  long  in  useful  cares .:^pioy’d, 

Their  kind  unblemish’d  wives  the  fire  prepare 
Thrice  happy  race ! by  poverty  secur’d 
F rom  legal  plunder  and  rapacious  pow  er : 

In  whom  fell  interest  never  yet  has  sown 

The  seeds  of  vice : whose  spotless  swains  ne’er  knew 

Injurious  deed ; nor,  blasted  by  the  breath 

* M.  de  Maupertuis,  in  his  book  on  the  Figure  of 
the  Earth j after  having  described  the  beautiful  lake 
and  mountain  of  Niemiy  in  Lapland,  says,  From  this 
height  we  had  opportunity  several  times  to  see  those  ta- 
pours  rise  from  the  lake  which  the  people  of  the  coun- 
try call  Haltios,  and  which  they  deem  to  be  the  guar- 
dian spirits  of  the  mo\intains.  We  had  been  frighted 
with  stories  of  bears  that  haunted  this  place,  but  saw 
none.  It  seemed  rather  a place  of  resort  for  fairies  and 
genii,  than  bears."' 

^ The  same  author  observes,  I was  surprised  to  see 
upon  the  banks  of  this  river  (the  Tengiio)  roses  of  as 
lively  a red  as  any  that  are  in  our  gardens.'* 


WINTER. 


211 


Of  faithless  love,  their  blooming-  daughters  wo. 

Still  pressing  on  beyond  Tornea’s  lake, 

And  Hecla  flaming  through  a waste  of  snow, 

And  furthest  Greenland,  to  the  pole  itself. 

Where,  failing  gradual,  life  at  length  goes  out, 

The  Muse  expands  her  solitary  flight; 

And,  hovering  o’er  the  wild  stupendous  scene, 
Beholds  new  seas  beneath  another  sky  * 

Thron’d  in  his  palace  of  cerulean  ice. 

Here  Winter  holds  his  unrejoicing  court: 

And  through  his  airy  hall  the  loud  misrule 
Of  driving  tempest  is  for  ever  heard : 

Here  the  grim  tyrant  meditates  his  wrath ; 

Here  arms  his  winds  with  all-subduing  frost; 
Moulds  his  fierce  hail,  and  treasures  up  his  snows, 
With  which  he  now  oppresses  half  the  globe. 

Thence,  winding  eastward  to  the  Tartar’s  coast 
She  sweeps  the  howling  margin  of  the  main; 
Where  undissolving,  from  the  first  of  time. 

Snows  swell  on  snows  amazing  to  the  sky ; 

And  icy  mountains  high  on  mountains  pil’d. 

Seem  to  the  shivering  sailor  from  afar, 

Shapeless  and  white,  an  atmosphere  of  clouds 
Projected  huge,  and  horrid,  o’er  the  surge, 

Alps  frown  on  Alps ; or  rushing  hideous  down, 

As  if  old  chaos  was  again  return’d, 

Wide-rend  the  deep,  and  shake  the  solid  pole. 
Ocean  itself  no  longer  can  resist 
The  binding  fury ; but,  in  all  its  rage 
Of  tempest  taken  by  the  boundless  frost. 


The  other  hemisphtrc. 


212 


WINTER. 


Is  many  a fathom  to  the  bottom  chain’d. 

And  bid  to  roar  no  more : a bleak  expaniiv 
Shag-g’d  o'er  with  wavy  rocks,  cheerless,  and  void 
Of  every  life,  that  from  the  dreary  months 
Flies  conscious  southward.  Miserable  they ! 

IVho,  here  entangled  in  the  gathering  ice. 

Take  their  last  look  of  the  descending  sun; 

While,  full  of  death,  and  fierce  with  tenfold  frost, 
The  long,  long  night,  incumbent  o’er  their  heads. 
Falls  horrible.  Such  was  the  Briton’s*  fate. 

As  with  first  prow,  (what  have  not  Britons  dar’d  f) 
He  for  the  passage  sought,  attempted  since 
So  much  in  vain,  and  seeming  to  be  shut 
By  jealous  Nature  with  eternal  bars. 

Jn  these  fell  regions,  in  Arzina  caught. 

And  to  the  stony  deep  his  idle  ship 
Immediate  seal’d,  he  with  his  hapless  crew, 

Each  full  exerted  at  his  several  task, 

F roze  into  statues  ; to  the  cordage  glued 
The  sailor,  and  the  pilot  to  the  helm.  [stream 

Hard  by  these  shores,  where  scarce  his  freezing 
Rolls  the  wild  Oby,  live  the  last  of  men; 

And  half  enliven’d  by  the  distant  sun, 

'J'hat  rears  and  ripens  man,  as  well  as  plants. 

Here  human  Nature  wears  its  rudest  form. 

Deep  from  the  piercing  season  sunk  in  caves. 

Here  by  dull  fires,  and  with  unjoyous  cheer, 

They  waste  the  tedious  gloom.  Immers’d  in  furs, 
Doze  the  gross  race.  Nor  sprightly  jest,  nor  song, 

* Sir  Hugh  Willoughby,  sent  by  Queen  Elisabeth  U 
Jisroverthe  north-east  passage. 


WINTER, 


213 


Nor  tenderness  they  know ; nor  aught  of  life, 
Beyond  the  kindred  bears  that  stalk  without. 

Till  morn  at  length,  her  roses  drooping  all, 

Sheds  a long  twilight  brightening  o’er  their  fields, 
And  calls  the  quiver’d  savage  to  the  chase. 

What  cannot  active  government  perform,  [shores, 
New-moulding  man  ? Wide-stretching  from  these 
A people  savage  from  remotest  time, 

A huge  neglected  empire,  one  vast  mind. 

By  heaven  inspir’d,  from  Gothic  darkness  call’d. 

Immortal  Peter'  first  of  monarchs  ! he 

His  stubborn  country  tam’d,  her  rocks,  her  fens, 

Her  floods,  her  seas,  her  ill-submitting  sons; 

And  while  the  fierce  barbarian  he  subdued, 

To  more  exalted  soul  he  rais’d  the  Man. 

Ye  shades  of  ancient  heroes ! ye  who  toil’d 
Through  long  successive  ages  to  build  up 
A labouring  plan  of  state,  behold  at  once 
The  wonder  done ! behold  the  matchless  prince ! 

Who  left  his  native  throne,  where  reign’d  till  then 
A mighty  shadow  of  unreal  power; 

Who  greatly  spurn’d  the  slothful  pomp  of  courts; 
And  roaming  every  land,  in  every  port 
His  sceptre  laid  aside,  with  glorious  hand 
Unwearied,  plying  the  mechanic  tool, 

Gather’d  the  seeds  of  trade,  of  useful  arts, 

Of  civil  wisdom,  and  of  martial  skill. 

Charg’d  w ith  the  stores  of  Europe,  home  he  goes ! 
Then  cities  rise  amid  th’  illumin’d  waste ; 

O’er  joyless  deserts  smiles  the  rural  reign; 
Far-distant  flood  to  flood  is  social  join’d; 

Th’  astonish’d  Euxine  hears  the  Baltic  roar ; 


214 


WINTER. 


Proud  navies  ride  on  seas  that  never  foam’d 
With  daring  keel  before ; and  armies  stretch 
Each  way  their  dazzling  files,  repressing  here 
The  frantic  Alexander  of  the  north, 

And  awing  there  stern  Othman’s  shrinking  sons 
Sloth  flies  the  land,  and  Ignorance,  and  Vice, 

Of  old  dishonour  proud:  it  glows  around. 

Taught  by  the  royal  hand  that  rous’d  the  whole. 

One  scene  of  arts,  of  arms,  of  rising  trade : 

For  what  his  wisdom  plann’d,  and  power  enforc’d, 
More  potent  still,  his  great  example  show’d. 

Muttering,  the  winds  at  eve,  with  blunted  point, 
31ow  hollow  blustering  from  the  south.  Subdued, 
The  frost  resolves  into  a trickling  thaw. 

Spotted  the  mountains  shine ; loose  sleet  descends, 
\nd  floods  the  country  round.  The  rivers  swell. 

Of  bonds  impatient.  Sudden  from  the  hills. 

O’er  rocks  and  woods,  in  broad  brown  cataracts, 

A thousand  snow- fed  torrents  shoot  at  once; 

And,  where  they  rush,  the  wide-resounding  plain 
Is  left  one  slimy  waste.  Those  sulkn  seas. 

That  wash’d  th’  ungenial  pole,  will  rest  no  more 
Beneath  the  shackles  of  the  mighty  north ; 

But,  rousing  all  their  waves,  resistless  heave. 

And  hark!  the  lengthening  roar  continuous  runs 
Athwart  the  rifted  deep : at  once  it  bursts. 

And  piles  a thousand  mountains  to  the  clouds. 

Ill  fares  the  bark  with  trembling  wretches  charg’d, 
That,  tost  amid  the  floating  fragments,  moors 
Beneath  the  shelter  of  an  icy  isle, 

While  night  o’erwhelms  the  sea,  and  horror  looks 
More  horrible.  Can  human  force  endure 


WINIER. 


215 


Th’  assembled  mischiefs  that  besiege^them  round r 
Heart  gnawing  hunger,  fainting  weariness, 

The  roar  of  winds  and  waves,  the  crush  of  ice, 

Now  ceasing,  now  renew’d  with  louder  rage. 

And^in  dire  echoes  bellowing  round  the  main. 

More  to  embroil  the  deep.  Leviathan 
And  his  unwieldy  train,  in  dreadful  sport. 

Tempest  the  loosen’d  brine;  while  through  the  gloom, 
Far,  from  the  bleak  inhospitable  shore. 

Loading  the  winds,  is  heard  the  hungry  howl 
Of  famish’d  monsters,  there  awaiting  wrecks. 

Yet  Providence,  that  ever-waking  eye* 

Looks  down  with  pity  on  the  feeble  toil 
Of  mortals  lost  to  hope,  and  lights  them  safe. 
Through  all  this  dreary  labyrinth  of  fate. 

’Tis  done ! dread  Winter  spreads  his  latest  glooms 
And  reigns  tremendous  o’er  the  conquer’d  year. 

How  dead  the  vegetable  kingdom  lies ! 

How  dumb  the  tuneful!  horror  wide  extends 
His  desolate  domain.  Behold,  fond  man ! 

See  here  thy  pictur’d  life ; pass  some  few  years, 

Thy  flowering  Spring,  thy  Summer’s  ardent  strength 
Thy  sober  Autumn  fading  into  age. 

And  pale  concluding  Winter  comes  at  last. 

And  shuts  the  scene.  Ah ! whither  now  are  fled 
Those  dreams  of  greatness  ^ those  unsolid  hopes 
Of  happiness.?  those  longings  after  fame.? 

Those  restless  cares  .?  those  busy  bustling  days  ? 
Those  gay-spent,  festive  nights.?  those  veering 
thoughts. 

Lost  between  good  a ;d  ill,  that  shar’d  thy  life .? 

All  now  are  vanish’d!  Virtue  sole  survives. 


2*6 


WINTER. 


Immortal  never-failing  friend  of  Man, 

His  guide  to  happiness  on  high.  And  see  ’ 

’Tis  come,  the  glorious  morn!  the  second  birth 
Of  heaven  and  earth ! awakening  Nature  hears 
The  new-creating  word,  and  starts  to  life, 

In  every  heighten’d  form ; from  pain  and  death 
For  ever  free.  The  great  eternal  scheme, 
Involving  all,  and  in  a perfect  whole 
Uniting,  as  the  prospect  wider  spreads. 

To  reason’s  eye  refin’d  clears  up  apace. 

Ye  vainly  wise ! ye  blind  presumptuous  ! now, 
Confounded  in  the  dust,  adore  that  Power, 

And  Wisdom  oft  arraign’d:  see  now  the  cause. 
Why  unassuming  worth  in  secret  liv’d. 

And  died,  neglected:  why  the  good  man’s  share 
In  life  was  gall  and  bitterness  of  soul: 

Why  the  lone  widow  and  her  orphans  pin’d 
In  starving  solitude;  while  luxury. 

In  palaces,  lay  straining  her  low  thought, 

To  form  unreal  wants:  why  heaven-born  t rut,  i, 
And  moderation  fair,  wore  the  red  marks 
Of  superstition’s  scourge:  why  licens’d  pain, 
That  cruel  spoiler,  that  embosom’d  foe, 
Embitter'd  all  our  bliss.  Ye  good  distress’d! 

Ye  noble  few!  who  here  unbenvling  stand 
Beneath  life’s  pressure,  yet  bear  up  awhile, 

And  what  your  bounded  view,  which  only  sa  w 
A little  part,  deem’d  evil  is  no  more: 

The  storms  of  Wintry  time  will  quickly  pass 
And  one  unbounded  Spring  encircle  all. 


A HYMN 


These,  as  they  chang;e,  Almighty  Fatheu!  these . 
Are  but  the  varied  God.  The  rollin|^  year 
Is  full  of  Thee.  Forth  in  the  pleasing  Spring 
Thy  beauty  walks,  thy  tenderness  and  love. 

Wide  flush  the  fields;  the  softening  air  is  balno ; 
Echoihe  mountains  round;  the  forest  smiles; 

And  every  sense,  and  every  heart  is  joy. 

Then  comes  thy  glory  in  the  Summer-months, 

With  light  and  heat  refulgent.  Then  thy  sun 
Shoots  full  perfection  through  the  swelling  year: 

And  oft  THY  VOICE  in  dreadful  thunder  speaks; 

And  oft  at  dawn,  deep  noon,  ©r  falling  eve, 

By  brooks  and  groves,  in  hollow-whispering  gales. 
Thy  bounty  shines  in  Autumn  unconfin’d. 

And  spreads  a common  feast  for  all  that  lives. 

In  Winter,  awful  Thou!  with  clouds  and  stornu 
Around  Thee  thrown,  tempest  o’er  tempest  roi 
Majestic  darkness ! on  the  whirlwind’s  wing, 

Riding  sublime,  Thou  bidst  the  world  adore, 

And  humblest  Nature  with  thy  northern  blast. 

Mysterious  round!  what  skill,  what  force  divine, 
Deep  felt,  in  these  appear ! a simple  train, 

Yet  so  delightful  mix’d,  with  such  kind  art 
Such  beauty  and  beneficence  combin’d ; 

Shade,  unperceiv’d,  so  softening  into  shade ; 

And  all  so  forming  an  harmonious  whole ; 

That,  as  they  still  succeed,  they  ravish  still. 


218 


A HYMN. 


But  wandering  oft,  with  brute  unconscious  ga>ze, 
Man  marks  not  Thee  ; marks  not  the  mighty  hand, 
That,  ever-busy , wheels  the  silent  spheres ; 

Works  in  the  secret  deep;  shoots,  steaaning,  thence 
The  fair  profusion  that  o’erspreads  the  Spring . 
Flings  from  the  sun  direct  the  fiaming  d^iy ; 

Feeds  every  creature ; hurls  the  tempest  forth ; 

And , as  on  earth  this  grateful  change  revolves. 

With  transport  touches  all  the  springs  of  life. 

Nature,  attend!  join  everv  living  soul. 

Beneath  the  spacious  temple  of  the  sky. 

In  adoration  join;  and,  ardent,  raise 
One  general  song!  To  Him,  ye  vocal  gales, 

Breathe  soft;  whose  Spirit  in  your  freshness  breathes : 
Oh,  talk  of  Him  in  solitary  glooms! 

Where,  o’er  the  rock,  the  scarcely  waving  pine 
Fills  the  brown  shade  with  a religious  awe. 

And  ye,  whose  bolder  note  is  heard  afar. 

Who  shake  th’  astonish’d  world,  lift  high  to  heaven 
Th’  impetuous  song,  and  say  from  whom  you  rage. 
His  praise,  ye  brooks,  attune,  ye  trembling  rills  • 

And  let  me  catch  it  as  I muse  along. 

Ye  headlong  torrents,  rapid,  and  profound; 

Ye  softer  floods,  that  lead  the  humid  maze 
Along  the  vale ; and  thou,  majestic  main, 

A secret  world  of  w'onders  in  thyself, 

Sound  His  stupendous  praise;  whose  greater  voice 
Or  bids  you  roar,  or  bids  your  roarings  fall. 

Soft  roll  your  incense,  herbs,  and  fi  uits,  and  flowers, 
In  mingled  clouds  to  Him;  whose  sun  exalts, 

Whose  breath  perfumesyou,  and  whose  pencil  paints. 
Ye  forests  bend,  ye  harvests  wave,  to  IIiMi 


A HYMN. 


219 


Breathe  your  stiil  song*  into  the  reaper’s  hearty 
As  home  he  goes  beneath  the  joyous  moon. 

Ye  that  keep  watch  m heaven,  as  earth  asleep 
Unconscious  lies,  effuse  your  mildest  beams, 

Ye  constellations,  wliile  your  angels  strike, 

Amid  the  spangled  sky,  the  silver  lyre. 

Great  source  of  day  i best  image  here  below 
Of  thy  Creator,  ever  pouring  wide, 

From  world  to  world,  the  vital  ocean  round ; 

On  Nature  write  with  every  beam  His  praise. 

The  thunder  rolls:  be  hush’d  the  prostrate  world; 
While  cloud  to  cloud  returns  the  solemn  hymn. 

Bleat  out  afresh,  ye  hills:  ye  mossy  rocks. 

Retain  the  sound:  the  broad  responsive  low, 

Ye  valleys,  raise;  for  the  Great  Shepherd  reigns ; 
And  his  unsuffering  kingdom  yet  will  come. 

Ye  woodlands  all,  awake:  a boundless  song 
Burst  from  the  groves ! and  when  the  restless  day, 
Expiring,  lays  the  warbling  world  asleep, 

Sweetest  of  birds!  sweet  Philomela,  charm 

The  listening  shades,  and  teach  the  night  His  praise 

Ye  chief,  for  whom  the  whole  creation  smiles, 

At  once  the  head,  the  heart,  and  tongue  of  all, 
Crowmthe  great  hymn!  in  swarming  cities  vast. 
Assembled  men,  to  the  deep  organ  join 
The  long  resounding  voice,  oft-breaking  clear, 

At  solemn  pauses,  through  the  swelling  bass; 

And,  as  each  mingling  flame  increases  each, 

In  one  united  ardour  rise  to  neaven. 

Or  if  you  rather  choose  the  rural  shade, 

And  find  a fane  in  every  sacred  grove ; 

'there  let  the  sheoherd’s  flute,  the  virgin’s  lay. 


220 


A HYMN. 


The  prompting  seraph,  and  the  poet’s  lyre, 

Still  sing  the  God  of  Seasons,  as  they  roll! — 
For  me,  when  I forget  the  darling  theme. 
Whether  the  blossom  blows,  the  summer-ray 
Russets  the  plain,  inspiring  Autumn  gleams, 

Or  Winter  rises  in  the  blackening  east  j 
Be  my  tongue  mute,  my  fancy  paint  no  more, 
And,  dead  to  joy,  forget  my  heart  to  beat. 

Should  fate  command  me  to  the  furthest  verg 
Of  the  green  earth,  to  distant  barbarous  climes, 
Rivers  unknown  to  song;  where  first  the  sun 
Gilds  Indian  mountains,  or  his  setting  beam 
Flames  on  th’  Atlantic  isles;  tis  nought  to  me: 
Since  God  is  ever  present,  ever  felt, 

In  tlie  void  waste  as  in  the  city  full; 

And  where  He  vital  breathes  there  must  be  joy. 
When  e’en  at  last  the  solemn  hour  shall  come. 
And  wing  my  mystic  flight  to  future  worlds, 

I cheerful  will  obey ; there,  with  new  powers. 
Will  rising  wonders  sing:  I cannot  go 
Where  universal  Love  not  smiles  around, 
Sustaining  all  yon  orbs,  and  all  their  suns  : 

From  seeming  Evil  still  educing  Good, 

And  better  thence  again,  and  better  still. 

In  infinite  progression.  But  I lose 
Myself  in  Him,  in  Light  inefiablei 
Come  then,  xpressive  Silence,  muse  His  praise. 


THE  END. 


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